Never Go Back
by katieee72
Summary: Harry is taken to Voldemort and is raised as his son. No slash. HIATUS.
1. A robbed cradle

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Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy"

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Lily watched her family with a smile. James was rocking Harry to sleep, a look at complete adoration on his face. James had taken to being a father with effortless naturality. It drove Lily mad when Harry was crying, and James could settle him when she could not. James was constantly telling her that it was simply because Lily _always_ took him when he was crying, and Harry needed a break. This generally earned him silence from Lily until Harry stopped crying.

"Lily?" James whispered, "want me to take him to bed?"

Lily smiled and nodded. Harry rested his head on James' shoulder, his mouth forming the most perfect O. He had dark, unruly hair like his father but, Lily's eyes. If Lily was honest with herself then, she would admit Harry looked exactly like James, but she chose to not accept the fact. She made her way into the kitchen to put a pot of tea on.

She thought back to the fateful day sixteen months ago when Harry was born. It had been a hot, July evening when Lily sent James a frantic patronus telling him that Harry was on his way. James got to St. Mungos within minutes and held Lily's hand the whole time. It was a long, painful process, but in the end, it had been worth it. Even then, Harry had had dark tuffs of hair. Harry did not cry a lot as a baby; he was generally quiet and curiously looking around. He often studied James and Lily's faces, as if he was committing them to memory. Lily smiled at the memory of his first few months.

Meanwhile, James carefully made his way up the stairs, scared of waking Harry. He had been particularly fussy that evening. Lily joked that Harry was too much like Sirius, who tended to whine. When James got Harry into his cot, he kissed his forehead before walking downstairs, flipping off the lights on the way out.

* * *

Peter took deep, even breathes. He knew that if he didn't do this, his master would kill James, Lily, and Harry. He closed his eyes, feeling his stomach churn, and apparated to Godric's Hollow.

When he arrived two streets away from James and Lily's home, Peter reflected on the boy he was about to take to his death. Harry seemed like a good-natured child, very simular his mother. He was curious, constantly getting into the kitchen cabinets and pulling out the contents. Peter smiled when he remembered Lily's last letter. She talked about coming into kitchen after gardening to find James asleep on the couch and all her pots and pans scattered on the floor, being banged on by Harry. "_Stop it_," Peter told himself. "_Stop thinking about him, it'll only make this worse_."

Finally, the Potter's house came into view. It would be fairly simple to get into Harry's room. His room was easy to climb up to, and Peter was one of the only people who could get into the house without raising hundreds of alarms. After all, James trusted him. A fellow Marauder.

It was a strange thing for Peter to think about now--being a Marauder. He closed his eyes and remembered himself, James, Sirius, and Remus all sitting in the Shrieking Shack one Hogsmeade afternoon. They were discussing the Marauder's Map. It had been Peter's idea; His mother had written to him and told him that if he got caught outside of bed one more time, she was taking him home for the rest of his schooling. So, Peter had come up with the idea for the map. At the time it was very vague--"What if there was a piece of parchment that could tell us where everyone in Hogwarts was? Then we could avoid the teachers"--but, the others loved it. For James and Sirius, it meant more trouble making, and to Remus, it meant not getting any more detentions. Peter smiled at the memory of Remus and him spending hours in the library trying to find a way. At the time, it reminded Peter of those long hours trying to find out how to become Animagi. Now, it just reminded him of what he was about to turn his back on. Peter frowned and shook his head, trying to drive the unpleasant thoughts away.

* * *

James could not shake the overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. It hung in the air, and he could tell that Lily was feeling it, too. Her hand laid on her stomach as they wordlessly drank their tea. Harry had only been there for nine months, but Lily frequently touched her stomach when she was stressed or had a bad feeling. James had once asked her why, and she told him that when she was pregnant it made her feel like she was soothing Harry, and by extension, herself. Now it was simply habit.

James looked up and saw Lily staring at him.

"I have a bad feeling," she said quietly. James sighed and nodded. Ever since they had to go into hiding, a cloud of unease followed James and Lily at all times. It was not uncommon for James or Lily to say this after putting Harry to bed.

Five months after Harry was born a prophecy was made about him that overturned the Potter's lives. Hogwart's new Divination Teacher, Sybill Trelawney, said the prophecy to Dumbledore during her interview.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...._"

Severus Snape heard the prophecy and went straight to Voldemort to tell him. Dumbledore immediately hid the Potters, believing that Voldemort would target Harry, although it could have been Neville Longbottom.

The prophecy turned James and Lily's lives upside down. They were forced into hiding and James had to quit working as an Auror. They couldn't go outside the grounds of the their house. It made Lily sick with worry everytime she thought of Harry being in danger.

"Maybe, I should go check on him...," Lily said, already starting to get up. James grabbed her wrist and shook his head. "He's fine Lily; don't go waking him up now. It took hours for him to fall asleep," he said. Lily nodded and sat back down. She sighed and took another sip of her tea.

* * *

The kitchen light would not go off. Peter had been waiting for hours. He knew the Potter's schedule fairly well. They put Harry to bed at eight, drank tea and talked for a few hours and went to bed at eleven. Anyone who stayed past dinner would know their routine--they did the same thing every night. Without fail.

Yet, the hours drew on, and the kitchen light stayed on. Peter look at his watch. It clearly read 12:07. '_Hurry up, James, the sooner I get this over with, the better it'll be_," Peter thought.

Finally, the kitchen light went off, and the light over the stairs flickered on for a few moments before turning off. Now he only had to wait for James and Lily to change into their sleepwear and fall asleep. He knew that James fell asleep fairly quickly (he had, after all, spent seven years in the same dormitory). Lily must fall asleep quickly--nobody could fall asleep with James snoring in their ear. Only five minutes later, the bedroom light went on before being turned off.

Peter walked towards the house, satisfied with the sound of James's snores and Lily's even breathing coming from the open window. Harry's room had ivy growing up the side as if inviting people to climb up it. Peter mournfully accepted the invitation and was soon climbing through Harry's window. When he was inside of the house, he waited to hear alarms, or James and Lily waking; however, loud snores were all he heard. He relaxed a bit. No one would have to know it was him. Peter shook his head. They'll know.

When he walked over to Harry's cot, he found a smile on his face. Harry looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Peter counted his lucky stars; in one of Lily's letters, she had mentioned how Harry could sleep through anything. Peter gingerly lifted Harry from his cot and disapparated to outside Gaunt Manor.

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Lily woke to a dark room and a car backfiring. She knew the sound much too well. Someone had just apparated. It was so loud that she was positive that it had been someone in the house. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, she shook James awake, screaming at him to wake up.

"Someone just apparated inside the house," she yelled at him, fear dripping from every word and shaking him roughly. James was instantly awake.

"Harry," James whispered, and the two sprinted out of bed in Harry's nursery.

Lily was the first into the bedroom. She frantically ran over to the cot that she and James picked out when she was five months pregnant. Her worst fears were suddenly coming true. She saw her hands shaking and felt her head shaking. However, it felt too awful to be happening to her. It felt as though she was watching someone else's life spiral downhill.

Meanwhile, James was sending patronuses to all the Order. After sending them, he heard the sounds of thirty or so witches and wizards apparating into Godric's Hallow. He turned his attention to his wife, who was shaking and looking around the room as if she was confused. James crossed the room and embraced her tightly. Her hot tears fell like bombs on his shirt.

Order members were flooding inside the house. Sirius and Remus were the first to find James and Lily. No words were exchanged. Sirius and Remus walked downstairs and told the Order that James and Lily needed awhile. Dumbledore started the meeting, and Sirius and Remus took their designated spots.

* * *

Harry woke up crying. Peter was thankful that he stopped when he saw that it was his Uncle Wormtail holding him. Harry simply tucked himself into Peter's chest and closed his eyes again.

When Peter arrived at Voldemort's chamber, he immediately dropped to his knees in front of the Dark Lord. He did it instinctively now. The Dark Lord motioned for him to stand up, and he obeyed. Just like Peter had obeyed when Voldemort told him to go fetch Harry.

Peter was surprised to see a few others standing in the chamber. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange stood a few feet behind the Dark Lord. With each step Voldemort took, they took one with him, as is they were told to keep a certain distance. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood in the shadows, backs against the wall. Narcissa looked particularly upset. Peter reasoned that it was because Harry was her son's age. What was the Malfoy kid's name? Dronco? "_No,_" Peter thought, "_Draco_."

Bellatrix was also looking upset. A perfectly placed pout screwed up her pretty face. Peter knew that it could not be because she disagreed with her Master. Bellatrix was all for killing or torturing anyone and everyone. Anyone less then pure-blood deserved to be killed. Rodolphus and Lucius's faces remained emotionless.

Peter turned his attention to Voldemort. The Dark Lord opened his hands, as if he wanted to take the child from Peter. Sure he looked confused, Peter handed the toddler to Voldemort. Voldemort looked down at the boy and smiled widely. It looked horribly wrong on his cruel face.

"Hi Harry," Voldemort said. Peter watched as Voldemort's lips kissed Harry's forehead. Peter grimaced. It didn't seem right to see Voldemort kissing James' son. Voldemort's cruel voice cut through the silence. "Bellatrix, Rodolphus, come here." The couple stepped in unison. "Yes, my Lord?" Rodolphus said when they reached him. At first, Voldemort said nothing, simply handing Harry over to Bellatrix. She took the boy and seemed to smile involuntarily at his cherubic sleeping form. Half a second later, her face became completely emotionless.

"You will take him home with you. You will call yourselves Uncle Rodolphus and Aunt Bella around the boy. Whenever you refer to me, call me Father. Bring him with you whenever you come here. In a few years time, he'll come to live here," Voldemort instructed. Bellatrix frowned and said, "I-forgive me, my Lord, but I don't understand." A cruel smile played on Voldemort's lips as he answered, "I'm going to raise him. Harry here is your future Dark Lord."


	2. 15 years later

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy"**

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has favourited this, put it on story alerts, or reviewed. You guys are awesome!**

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Harry walked around the kitchen aimlessly, bored. His father and the inner circle were in a meeting. Harry often grew restless during the summer. During the year, he was constantly either training or going on missions. However, in the summer, Aunt Bellatrix and Uncle Rodolphus did not train him as often. Lucius liked to keep up with his lessons during the summer, but today he was in the meeting.

With nothing better to do, Harry went to his training grounds, buried deep in the woods. Gaunt Manor's property stretched for acres into the woods. He found a few deer and practiced the spell that Aunt Bella had taught him not to long ago. It broke the bones of whatever you pointed your wand at. Although he only had one lesson with the spell, he had performed it flawlessly. Aunt Bellatrix had been so proud of Harry that she brought his father out to watch. Harry grinned when he remembered seeing Voldemort nod in approval. After breaking a few bones in three deer, he put them out of their misery by performing the Killing Curse on each of them. That, too, was good practice. He used the curse often.

Harry thought of the first time he had used the curse when he had been ten and on his first mission. Aunt Bella and Uncle Rodolphus had went with him on that one, for his safety. He had performed magnificently, and ever since, he had worked alone.

He lost track of time as he reviewed the spells he had learned that year. He was a quick learner when it came to Dark Arts, so he moved quickly through his lessons. Aunt Bella, Uncle Rodolphus, and Lucius were his usual teachers. Although, sometimes his father taught him for a week or two. Narcissa often came along with Lucius, but she never taught.

When Harry finally exited the trance he had entered, the sun was beginning to set. He had already started back towards the house when he heard a throat clearing. Before he could even think about what he was doing, his wand was drawn and pointed in the direction of the noise. His body relaxed when he heard Aunt Bella's peals of laughter echoing off the trees. She came into view and walked next to Harry.

"I could have easily killed you hours ago," Bellatrix started as they walked back to the manor. Her tone was serious, but Harry knew she would never harm him. She loved him like a son.

"Awh, c'mon, you wouldn't do that on your boy's sixteenth birthday," Harry teased.

Bella smiled but otherwise acted like she hadn't heard him. "You need to become more aware of your surrounding when you're dueling. You get too into it. One of these days that will end up... killing you." Her voice went quiet at the end, as if she couldn't think of anything worse.

Harry sighed and said, "I don't need a lecture, _mother_. If I wanted one, I would've gone to Narcissa." Bellatrix's sister was infamous for giving Harry lecture after lecture about dangerous behavior.

Harry often called Bella his mother. Sometimes, he meant it as a insult like when she was acting a bit too, well, motherly. He could use that meaning of the word around Father without having to explain anything. However, it was more common that Harry called her mother when they were alone, and she was being affectionate. It always made Bella happier then Harry realized when he did not push her away or tell her to get out of his room. She had grown to love the boy.

"Well, I'll be sure to tell Cissy that you need one," Bella said stiffly. Harry half-smiled at Bellatrix to show he was sorry.

"Why'd you come out in the first place?" He asked. He would have thought that the meeting would go on for a few hours, at least.

"Your father wanted you. I went inside to tell him you were training, and he told me watch you and bring you inside when you were done," she explained.

Harry nodded and said, "Well, I mustn't keep him waiting then."

* * *

Emma sighed. Even though she had never met Harry, Emma still missed him. Her heart ached when she thought of the older brother she never got to have. Ginny Weasley had six older brothers and they looked after her as if she was going to shatter into a hundred pieces if she so much as tripped. The past year at Hogwarts Emma couldn't help but feel envious when Fred yelled at Ginny after he found her sneaking around at night. Emma had wondered if Harry would have yelled at her if found Emma walking about the castle.

Today, her parents were locked up in Harry's old nursery. When she was younger, she had always been curious as to why her parents picked one day out of the year to be sullen and lock themselves away in Harry's room. Now she knew. It was supposed to be Harry's sixteenth birthday. It would have been, if he had not gone... missing.

The door to Harry's room was cracked open. Emma dared to peek in at her parents. Her mother was in the rocking chair. Her face was completely emotionless, and she was looking at the floor. She rocked slightly, but other then that, she showed no signs of movement. Emma could not see her father, so she walked into the nursery. It was not as if she didn't belong there. He was, after all, her brother.

James was standing beside the cot. His hands were tightly gripping the railing, and Emma could see his jaw clenched. Emma knew that he was thinking of his only son's abduction. James and Lily had held on the tiniest glimmer of hope that Harry was alive but, Emma knew the truth. Harry was dead and he had been dead for fifteen years.

* * *

Harry, Aunt Bella, and Uncle Rodolphus sat at the grand table. Occasionally, it was used for Death Eater meetings, but to Harry, it was just the dinner table. After seemingly hours of waiting for dinner to begin, Voldemort finally came in and sat at the head of the table. Harry was sitting opposite of him. With the smallest wave of Voldemort's wand, dinner appeared on the table.

Bella and Rodolphus waited for Voldemort to speak before they could. However, Harry was Voldemort's son. His equal. His heir. So, he started the conversation.

"Aunt Bella said you were looking for me earlier," he said and took a large bite. Voldemort looked upon his son. He surged with pride as he scrutinized the boy. He was tall and well-built like Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately for the boy, he still had his mudblood mother's green eyes. Lord Voldemort so wanted them to be red like his. Voldemort mentally shrugged. By the way Harry was going, his eyes would turn crimson in a few months.

More important than eye color was Harry's unbelievable power. Voldemort had taught Harry his secrets about controlling his magic back when Harry was six and had first transfigured a beetle into a leaf. Ever since then, Harry had had unheard of powers. Magic coursed through him; he was conscious of it, felt it pulsing through his veins. He never overdid his missions; he did what was assigned for him and left without leaving a trace of who he was behind.

Voldemort cleared his throat and said, "I have a mission for you after dinner. A certain Death Eater's usefulness has run it's course." This was often the excuse Harry was given as to why he was sent out to go kill a Death Eater: "His usefulness has run it's course." Harry nodded and went back to eating.

The rest of the dinner was spent in silence. Harry, a skilled Legilimen and Occlumens, allowed his father into his mind to show the Death Eater's face and location. Voldemort gave Harry his usual parting message when Harry was going out. "Come back to me, my son." He smiled at Harry and let Harry go to his room to change.

He picked out the same simple Muggle clothes he'd been using for a year when he got his growth spurt. His father did not like him wearing Muggle clothing, but he never protested. After Harry changed into the red t-shirt and dark blue jeans stained with blood, he grabbed his wand and began looking for his mask.

His father had given him a Death Eater's mask when Harry began his missions. But while the Death Eater's masks were silver, Harry's mask was a shocking gold.

However, he could not find it. He remembered flinging it somewhere after his last mission before going to sleep. He had been dead tired at the time. The Death Eater he had been sent to kill had put up quite a fight, and they had duelled for two hours. However, Harry had won. Harry always won.

He cursed under his breathe as continued to look under his bed.

"Looking for this?" Rodolphus said, making Harry hit his head on the bed.

Cursing again, Harry stood up. Rodolphus was holding Harry's mask, twirling it around one finger. He was leaning against the door frame. Harry walked over and took it from him. He put it on and felt the cool metal against his skin. Rodolphus chuckled. It was strange for him to see that boy he helped raise be ready to go out and kill someone. Rodolphus smiled and ruffled Harry's already disheveled hair and walked into Harry's room. Harry opened a drawer and began taking out Muggle weapons, which proved to be useful.

As Harry was storing the weapons, Bellatrix stuck her head into his room and said, "Rodolphus, time to go home." Her husband walked over to her, took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. Harry made a small noise of disgust--watching his aunt and uncle be romantic with each other made him gag. Rodolphus ignored Harry and walked out.

Before leaving, Bellatrix walked over to Harry's closet and pulled out a light jacket. "Put this on Harry, it's a bit chilly tonight," she told him.

He rolled his eyes but, put the zip up jacket on. "Aunt Bella, everything will be fine. Stop worrying all the time," Harry said when he saw the look. She always gave him the look of fear when he was about to go out. She ached to go with him to make sure he was safe.

"I know, I know," she said and began walking out.

"I'll be careful," Harry said quietly.

Right before she walked out she gave him a small smile and said, "I know. You always are."

* * *

Hollis Green's stomach churned. There was a certain feeling that one got when one knew that their death was near. In the back of his mind, Hollis thought of who would come to kill him. There was whispers that Voldemort had a Death Eater that killed the others when they failed their master. Hollis wondered if that was who would be sent to him.

As he sat with his final hours, Hollis thought of why he had been sentenced to death. He thought of the raid he had went on two weeks ago. When he looked into the scared, blue eyes of that innocent five year old girl, he could not bring himself to mutter the curse that would end her life. In the end, it had been Bellatrix that pushed him out of the way and killed the girl. When Bellatrix told the Dark Lord what had happened, Hollis had seen the fury in his master's eyes, and he had known that he was going to die.

Then, Hollis heard the sound he listening for. The sound of a Muggle car backfiring. He knew that his assassin was close. After a minute or two, Hollis heard his door unlock, open and close. The murderer walked straight towards him, wand outstretched in case Hollis fought him. However, Hollis had no fight in him. He knew that when the Dark Lord wanted you dead, then you were. Killing the person in his house would not prevent his death.

"I knew someone would come for me tonight," Hollis said quietly.

"Turn around and face me like a man," a voice commanded.

Hollis was taken back. The voice could not have belonged to anyone over seventeen. When Hollis turned and faced the boy, he was shocked at the cold fury raging in the boy's emerald green eyes. Black messy hair covered the boy's head, while a bright gold Death Eater's mask hid his face. The colour confused Hollis for a moment before he realized that the boy's wand was already pointed at him.

The green eyes held no mercy as the child's lips said the murderous words.

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	3. The Meeting

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy"**

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Harry and Rodolphus walked silently back to the Manor after an afternoon lesson. Rodolphus was going to head straight to the Death Eater meeting when they got inside. Harry was likely to go to his room and sleep for a few hours. He had his gold mask with him, in case he ran into a Death Eater who did not know about him.

Harry was, perhaps, one of Voldemort's best kept secrets. Very few knew of his existence and even less had ever actually met him. The only people who had seen Harry without his mask were the Lestranges and the Malfoys. Yaxley and Nott knew that Harry was the Dark Lord's son, but they had never met him.

When Rodolphus and Harry entered the house, Bellatrix was waiting for them. "Harry, the Dark Lord wants you in the meeting."

Harry stared back at her, confusion written on his face. "Why?" He questioned, it was too good to be true. Harry often wondered when he was going to be sitting in on Death Eater meetings.

"I don't know, Harry. Can we just go?" Bellatrix asked.

Harry nodded, and they began walking to the dining room. Harry made sure to put on his mask before walking into the dining room. When they got there, Rodolphus and Bellatrix took their designated places. Bellatrix sat on the left side of the table and Rodolphus sat facing her on the right. Both were sitting next to Voldemort's chair.

Voldemort was already seated, as were several other Death Eaters. Harry had no idea where to sit. Voldemort smiled and pointed to the chair opposite of his. Harry sat at the seat offered, feeling every Death Eater stare at him. Bella, Rodolphus, Narcissa and Lucius smiled at him. Bella looked like a proud mother.

When the others filed in and took their seats, Voldemort cleared his throat, and began the meeting. The Dark Lord looked at Lucius and said, "Is Draco ready?"

Narcissa's face paled as Lucius answered, "Yes, my Lord."  
Voldemort nodded and said, "It'll be next week then." Lucius nodded slightly. Voldemort tilted his head towards Harry. "My son," he began, "you have no idea how long I've wanted you to be in these meetings. I'm happy you're here." Nearly every Death Eater looked at Harry with a mixture of envy and shock written on their faces.

Harry cleared his throat and said, "I'm happy to be here, Father. I'm glad I don't have to hide in my room during these meetings anymore." The Lestranges and the Malfoys chuckled and Voldemort smiled.

The Dark Lord took in the Death Eater's faces. "My son will be your new master after he becomes of age. I expect you to treat him as you treat me. He doesn't shy away from the Killing Curse or the Cruciatus Curse. He'll gladly use them on anyone that mistreats him or goes against me. I trust you'll all keep that in mind," Voldemort told them. A few nodded in understanding, but most just looked at Harry, as if sizing him up.

Voldemort turned to Snape and said, "You will alert the Order of his existence. They would get suspicious, if you didn't. Simply tell them I have an heir. They don't need to know anymore than that." Snape's eyes flickered to Harry for a moment and nodded.

The rest of the meeting, they went over battle plans. Harry paid close attention, even though he knew he would not be permitted to go on any raids. Harry and his father argured over him going on raids and participating in battles. Harry's argument was that if he going to lead the Death Eaters, surely, it would be beneficial to see their fighting style. His father told him repeatedly that it was too dangerous.

After the meeting, Harry managed to meet a few Death Eaters before Bellatrix and Rodolphus hugged him tightly. "You did wonderfully, Harry," Bellatrix whispered in his ear lowly so no other Death Eater would hear his name.

"Really good, you're exactly like your father," Rodolphus said. They let go of their embrace and walked Harry to his room.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat, beginning the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix . He was thankful that the Potters and Weasleys were staying at Grimmauld Place for the summer, so they could help clean it. Before Lily and Molly started working, people could barely breathe without having something fly up their nose.

"One of Voldemort's Death Eaters was found dead in his home last week," Dumbledore began. "That's the thirty-fourth Death Eater killed in their home in the past six years. I doubt it's a coincidence." Remus, who had been on the look out for Extendable Ears ears, asked why. Dumbledore looked at the Order for a moment then said, "Severus has told me that all of the Death Eaters who have been killed had angered Voldemort. I think it's a safe assumption to say that Voldemort, or at least anouther Death Eater, had been the one killing them."

The Order took a moment to sit with their thoughts before being interrupted by Snape flooing into the kitchen. Dumbledore smiled at him and asked him, "Severus, what can you tell us about the Death Eater found last week?"

Snape sat down and said, "His name was Hollis Green. He was young and talented. From what I understand, Voldemort liked him. He regretted his death."

James nodded and said, "What about the person that killed him? Do you know anything about him?"

Snape gave James a look of cold fury (which James returned) before answering. "The Dark Lord has an heir. Voldemort told us that he's used the Killing Curse before. It's safe to assume that his heir is killing everyone that has upset him."

The room was silent. Even Dumbledore seemed shocked by the news. He abruptly sat down after hearing the news. Lily's hands sat on her stomach. Molly, who had been cooking for dinner for the children, dropped the pot she was using and seemed to be too shocked to bother repairing it. James' jaw dropped, and he made no effort to close his month. Remus was sighing. Sirius was silent and unmoving, which, if nothing else, proved that someone was wrong.

"Have you met the boy?" Dumbledore whispered, unable to find his voice. The news of Voldemort's son was horrible. The boy was surely brought up in a home of murder and cruelty. If Voldemort, himself had taught the child, then he would have unheard of power. Dumbledore idly wondered, how early Voldemort had taught the boy the Unforgivable Curses.

"Very briefly, I shook his hand and introduced myself. Bellatrix and Rodolphus seemed particularly close with the boy," Snape answered. Sirius growled at his cousin's name. "The Lestranges and the Malfoys look like they've known the boy for some time now." Dumbledore nodded, as if this answered an unasked question.  
Molly, who had just gotten around to repairing the pot, asked, "Do you know how old he is?"

Snape answered, "He looked like he was about to come of age. I'd say sixteen." Arthur looked at Molly, his wife. They had a son who was sixteen. The Dark Lord's son was out killing when their son, Ron, was playing Quidditch. It hardly seemed fair. Sirius said, "We have to capture him before he becomes of age." Nearly every head nodded in agreement.

* * *

The fire crackled as the eight teenagers sat around it. Draco was tending to it, occasionally poking at it when necessary. He was trying to tune out the conversation between the Death Eaters' kids and Harry. Draco was too busy thinking about the impending date of him becoming a Death Eater. After speaking with Harry for a few minutes, Draco's father had all but ran to him and told him the news. It was to be next week some time. Voldemort would tell them the day before.

Draco was nervous. Voldemort had given him the assignment of killing Albus Dumbledore at the beginning of his summer term. After the joy of the Dark Lord giving him an assignment was over, Draco panicked. He had had no idea how to get Death Eaters into Hogwarts, or how to kill Dumbledore when so many other had failed.

In the end, it was Draco's Uncle Rodolphus's brother, Rabastan, who had told him about the Vanishing Cabinets. "You know, Draco, there's a broken Vanishing Cabinet in Borgin and Burkes. I've heard through the grapevine that it's sister is in Hogwarts. I bet if someone fixed it up then they could get some people into Hogwarts... people who weren't supposed to be there," he had told Draco one afternoon. After hearing that, Draco had snuck out of his house every night for a month to go to Knockturn Alley and fix it up. When Draco had finished fixing it, he knew that all he needed was to fix it's sister, and then, Death Eaters would be able to get into Hogwarts.

While Draco sat with his thoughts, Harry got his first feel for what his future followers were like. Crabbe and Goyle were idiots; Harry had already mentally written them off. Dolohov's son seemed to have some potential, seeing as he went to Durmstrang. Macnair's daughter seemed flighty but loyal. Harry reminded himself to keep an eye on her. Nott's son was already extremely loyal to Harry and Voldemort. He was in his seventh year at Hogwarts and seemed to have a good knowledge of Dark Arts. "_All in all_," Harry thought, "_a good lot_."

Then, of course, there was Ella. He didn't know where to place her. She could be lumped together with Harry's future followers, or she could be where the Malfoys and Lestranges were grouped. Harry often mused with the thought of where to place her. He supposed Ella was his girlfriend, at least in practice, if not officially.

When Harry was fourteen, Voldemort had had a meeting with the Malfoys and Lestranges about Harry's future. After the meeting, Harry had been called into Voldemort's chamber. Voldemort mostly used the room for important events or large Death Eaters meetings. When Harry had entered the room, he had found Voldemort seated on his chair, which sat on a raised platform, with the four Death Eaters knelling in front of him. Voldemort smiled at Harry and waved him forward.

When Harry had gotten to Voldemort, the Dark Lord had put his arm around Harry and asked, "Do you want a wife?" Harry had thought for a moment before answering. He had never thought about a having a wife before. Whenever he had thought of his future, the only thing he could ever see was becoming the next Dark Lord. However, the more Harry had thought of it, the more the idea appealed to him.

Slowly, he had answered, "Yes, I think I do."

Voldemort had nodded and looked at the Death Eaters seated in front of him. He had seemed to be looking for suggestions. Bella had looked at Harry for awhile before answering Voldemort's silent question. "How about Ella Yaxley? Macnair's the only other one I can think of who has a daughter near his age, and she's a nightmare. She never shuts up."

Voldemort had nodded and ever since then, Harry and Ella had been thrown together every chance they were given. Harry had always been pleased with Bellatrix's choice. Ella was pretty, with waist-length mahogany hair and dark blue eyes. Ella was funny and loyal, completely following the Dark Lord's cause. She loved Harry and Harry loved her back.

Nott's son laughed loudly, forcing Harry out of his thoughts. Everyone else was braying loudly too, except for Draco. Ella, who was snuggled next to Harry with his arm around her bare shoulder, shook with laughter beneath his hold. Harry smiled and forced a laugh. He pulled Ella closer, and she put her arms around his torso.

The Death Eater's children all stayed as long as their parents. Crabbe and Goyle left first, then followed slowly by Macnair, Dolohov, and Nott, leaving Ella, Harry, and Draco.

Harry kissed the top of Ella's head and asked, "Do you want to stay the night?"

Ella smiled and said, "Sure. I'll go tell my dad." She wiggled out from under Harry's arm and left the room.

"You've been awfully quiet, Draco," Harry said.  
Draco looked at him and said, "Can you blame me?" Harry knew Draco's qualms about becoming a Death Eater. Harry had tried to drill into Draco's head that his life was about to become much better but, after awhile he had given up.

Harry and Draco had been best friends since they were seven. There had been a Death Eater meeting, and the Malfoys had brought Draco along, since Narcissa's mother had been too busy to babysit. Draco had been sneaking around Gaunt Manor when he had found himself in Harry's wing at the same time Harry had been coming in from training. Harry and Draco had instantly clicked, and the two were soon inseparable. When they were young, Voldemort had frowned upon the friendship. He had made sure to tell Harry all his life that friendship and love only made you weak. However, once both boys had started to mature, Voldemort found Draco to be loyal and talented. Draco was destined to be to Harry what Bella was to Voldemort; his most loyal follower and closest thing to a friend he'll ever have.

"Everything will be fine Draco. All you need to do is kill that idiot Dumbledore, and Father will reward more than your wildest dream. I know you can do it," Harry encouraged him. Everything he said was true; once Draco managed to kill Dumbledore, Draco would immediately be in Voldemort's inner circle. Draco would be one of Voldemort's most important Death Eaters.

Draco sighed and said, "I know, I know. Can we not talk about this tonight?"

Harry nodded. Draco looked at the open door Ella disappeared from. "Do you guys...well, you know," He asked. He sounded as if he already had his mind made up that Harry and Ella did, and he just wanted confirmation.

Memories of Ella sleeping over flooded Harry's mind. He gave Draco a devious smile and said, "We're going to be married anyways. Who cares?"

As soon as Harry finished, Narcissa and Bellatrix walked in the room. His cheeks burned as he hoped they did not hear Draco's and his conversation. Bellatrix was looking at him strangely and Harry felt his cheeks burn more.

Narcissa turned to Draco and said, "It's time to go."

When Draco, Narcissa, and Bellatrix left the room, Ella walked in.

* * *

**Hey guys! I hate being one of these people but, please review! It only takes a second and really keeps me going.**


	4. The Dark Mark

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy"**

**This was my favourite chapter to write! (:**

* * *

Bellatrix's loud cackle rang in Harry's ears as she was training him. She had just hit him with a spell that had made him fly backwards and fall to the the ground painfully. On top of it all, his scar was hurting.

The Dark Lord marked Harry with the lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead when Harry was four and had come to live with Voldemort. Twelve years later, Harry still did not know how, or why Voldemort, gave him the scar that forever linked them together, but now, whenever Voldemort was feeling any particular emotion strongly, Harry's scar burned. Voldemort tried to keep his temper in check for Harry's sake, but he often failed in the controlling of his emotions.

"You're getting rusty, Harry. You need to go out on some missions," Bella said as she helped Harry up. She was happy and energetic like she always was when she came back from a successful raid. A large group of Death Eaters had gone on a raid to destroy some bridge in London. Harry did not know the details of the raid, but he did know several Muggles had been killed. Bella was positively ecstatic. Normally, Harry loved her like this, but today he found that he wanted her to go away.

"Not today, Mother, my scar is hurting," Harry said affectionately. He did not want her to take it personally. Her smiled instantly faded, and her face grew worried. Without saying a word, she put her arm around Harry and led him inside. She followed him into his room and began rummaging through his drawers, until she found the small vial of potion.

"Aunt Bella, I don't need it. Besides, that healer had no idea what he was talking about; the potion doesn't make anything better," Harry protested as he climbed into bed. He wanted to just sleep the pain away.

"I don't care Harry, drink it. You can go to sleep afterwards. I didn't waste a cauldron of Polyjuice Potion to take you to St. Mungo's just so you can tell me that you don't need the potion," Bella said sharply and handed the vial to Harry. He looked at her disdainfully before drinking it all.

Four times in Harry's life, Bella and Rodolphus took him out of Gaunt Manor. Other than missions, Harry was strictly confined there, and on some occasions, Bella thought he should get out more. Of course, months of planning went into these outings; the Dark Lord wanted to be positive nothing would ever happen to Harry. Harry always had to make sure he drank Polyjuice Potion every hour on the hour. He looked too much like James Potter for no one to notice.

In January of that year, Bella and Rodolphus had taken Harry to St. Mungo's to get something for his scar. They had posed as his mother and father and simply told the healer that Harry had a cursed scar that acted up from time to time. He had overwhelmed them with questions, but they chose not to answer most of them.

After the trip, whenever Harry's scar was acting up, whoever he was with all but forced Harry to drink the potion. It drove Harry mad. Lucius and Rodolphus sometimes let Harry just go bed without drinking it, but Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Voldemort watched Harry like hawks until he drank every drop.

Bella flipped the lights off before she left, leaving Harry to his sleep.

* * *

A few hours later Harry was shaken awake. He grabbed his wand, which he kept at his bedside, intending to curse whoever it was waking him, but then, he saw it was Ella.

She looked at the wand pointed at her throat and laughed. "Good morning to you too," she said, kissing Harry's forehead as he threw his wand on his bedside table.

Harry smiled at her and asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to come Friday."

Ella looked at him strangely. "I can't believe you forgot. Draco's being initiated as a Death Eater in an hour."

Harry rubbed his eyes and said, "That's today?"

Ella sighed. "Yeah, get up, your father expects you to be there. Oh yeah, and your best friend wants you there too," She said sarcastically. She walked to his closet and grabbed some black robes for Harry to change into. As Harry was getting dressed, she took his training robes and hung them up. "How's your scar?" She asked.

"How'd you know?" Harry asked as he buttoned up his shirt.

She walked over and helped him with the buttons as she said, "Bellatrix told me." Harry nodded as he put on his mask. He took her hand and led her to where Draco would get the Dark Mark.

When they walked into Voldemort's chamber, Ella took her place behind her father as Harry went to stand beside Voldemort. "I'm sorry about earlier, Harry. I need you to help me with something later. "

Harry said, "What is it, Father?" Voldemort answered, "I'll explain later." Harry nodded as Draco and his parents entered the chamber.

All the Death Eaters were required to be present every time someone received the Dark Mark. They all stood in two lines with Voldemort and Harry at the head. The inner circle Death Eaters were close to Voldemort, and the farther away you got from him, the less important the Death Eater was.

As Draco and his family entered, Harry looked at his best friend with cold, merciless eyes. He could not be Draco's friend. Today, at least while Draco was getting the Dark Mark, Harry had to be his future master. When Draco and his family reached Harry and Voldemort, they all fell to their knees and began kissing the hems of Harry and Voldemort's robes. It made Harry sick to see his best friend kissing his robes, as if he was a god.

Voldemort motioned for them to stand. They did, and the Dark Lord shooed Lucius and Narcissa to their spots. Draco was looking down, not wanting to meet his master's eyes. Voldemort's white, bony finger pushed Draco's chin upward. "I've watched you grow up. You're my son's most loyal friend. We knew this day would come." Harry stole a glance at the Death Eaters. Most were looking bored, as if they had better things to do. Anger flared inside of Harry-if Voldemort thought this was important, who were they to say it wasn't?

Narcissa looked slightly green. Harry always knew, in the back of his mind, that she did not want Draco to become a Death Eater. Harry had always thought of Narcissa as weak; she never went on raids, never killed if she could help it. Harry knew that Lucius had only married her because she was a pure-blood.

Lucius, on the other hand, was looking positively euphoric. He was excited and proud that his only son would follow in his footsteps when Draco was so young. Bellatrix and Rodolphus each had small smile touching their lips.

Meanwhile, Voldemort told Draco to roll up his sleeve. Bella's eyes widened in anticipation as Voldemort's wand touched Draco's bare arm. Voldemort whispered the curse, almost lazily, and slowly, a fresh black tattoo appeared on the inside of Draco's left arm.

The moment Voldemort said the incantation, Draco's breathing became labored, and his teeth clenched. Harry knew it burned when Death Eaters got the mark--and it would burn every time Voldemort needed them. However, from Lucius's stories, after you got the Mark, it was not a painful kind of burning. It was just uncomfortably hot. But, when you got the Mark, it felt as if your entire arm was suddenly set on fire. Draco seemed to not want to look at his arm as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. For one brief minute, Draco understood how Harry felt every time he complained of his scar hurting.

Then, it was over. Draco's breathing went back to normal, and he looked at the Mark for the first time. He smiled involuntarily when he saw it. He ran his fingers over it.

Voldemort looked at his Death Eaters and said, "That is all."

They filed out of the chamber, leaving Voldemort, Harry, the Malfoys, and the Lestranges. Voldemort looked at his newest Death Eater before walking into his bedroom's wing, located off his chamber.

Lucius hugged his son, while Narcissa stared sadly at the Mark. She hugged her son, because it was expected of her, not because she was happy for him. Bellatrix and Rodolphus each shook his hand.

They all took one last look at the Mark and walked out of Voldemort's chamber. Harry looked at Draco for a long moment, while Draco stared at the Mark. It was strange for him to see his best friend as a Death Eater. Before now, it was so uncertain; Harry had felt that Draco would get cold feet at the last moment. Harry went to sit in Voldemort's chair, a move that would get any Death Eater killed. Draco narrowed his eyes when he saw Harry sitting where his master sat.

"Is this how it's going to be now?" He asked. "Are you going to be all high and mighty?"

Harry thought for a bit before he answered. It would be smart of him to establish that he was going to be taking over for his father in a year's time. Draco would have to learn to respect him and to follow his orders. However, Harry wanted a friend instead of a follower, at least, for the time being. He knew that eventually the line would have to be drawn; Draco would have to know where he stood in comparison to Harry. But, until that day came (and Harry was sure the day would make itself clear when it came), Harry wanted a friend.

"No Draco, of course not," he said, "eventually, it'll happen but not today." Draco nodded and went back to examining his new tattoo. "Congratulations, by the way," Harry said.

"Thanks," Draco answered, still marveling the Mark. Suddenly, Harry remember that his father needed him for something. He said goodbye to Draco and walked into his father's room.

Voldemort was at his desk when he saw Harry come in. Harry sat on his bed and sighed.

"Aren't you happy for Draco, Harry?" Voldemort said, not looking away from the papers he was working on.

"Of course," Harry said, "I just don't know when I'm going to need to draw the line between being his best friend and being his master."

Voldemort sighed. "I told you when you were younger, Harry, that you had no place for friends. But, I'm sure the opportunity will present itself in due time." Harry nodded and laid down on Voldemort's high bed. "Harry, can you do me a favour?" Voldemort asked.

Harry sat up and said, "Anything, Father, you know that."

Voldemort put his quill down and turned towards Harry. "I need you to go on the next raid. During the raid, I need for you to be captured by the Order of the Phoenix." Harry flinched as if someone had hit him. He had always been told that Voldemort's biggest fear was for Harry to be captured by the Order of the Phoenix.

"I-I don't understand, Father."

Voldemort came and sat down next to Harry. "You know how I feel about Draco's assignment. He's been fixing that Vanishing Cabinet, and he's been doing surprisingly well, but, I can't trust him to kill Dumbledore. I need you to be at Hogwarts with him this year. Although, when the time comes, let Draco try kill Dumbledore himself."

"Why me? Why couldn't it be Nott's son? He's in his seventh year and he's brilliant," Harry said, already knowing the words were wrong before they escaped. Harry felt a flash of white hot pain shoot across his forehead.

"No one is more brilliant than you, Harry. Don't ever forget that."

Harry sat with his thoughts. "How do you know Dumbledore will let me go to Hogwarts? He might hand me over to the Ministry or have his Order just kill me. No offense, Father, but, so many things could go wrong."

"Harry, I know my old professor. He'll try to save you from me. Especially when he finds that you're James Potter's biological son. But, to ensure that the Order doesn't kill you during the raid you'll need to take your mask off or, have it fall off."

Harry's fingers reach up to touch the cold metal mask. For Harry, who had never been out without it unless he drank Polyjuice Potion, to be outside the Manor walls without it, would feel horribly wrong. His mask was a part of who he was. He would feel extremely vulnerable without it.

"Don't worry, everything will go according to plan," Voldemort answered.

"When will the raid be?" Harry asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Voldemort answered, "I won't be able to see you before you leave."

"Does Bella or Rodolphus know that I need to be captured?" Harry asked, hopping off the bed.

"They only know you're going. It's best that only we know about this."

As Harry was walking out the bedroom door, Voldemort grabbed his wrist and said, "Come back to me after you've killed Dumbledore, my son." Harry smiled and said, "I always come back."

* * *

James Potter involuntarily hissed as the Death Eater sat down. Dumbledore had told the Order that the former Death Eater was going to give them information about Voldemort's son.

Dumbldedore looked at the Death Eater, telling him to begin when he was ready.

Jacob Kensington cleared his throat and said, "I don't know much. I think the Dark Lord exaggerates some things, so we'll be afraid of his son. But, from what I do know, his son's is very...skilled in the Dark Arts. The Dark Lord's told us that the Lestranges, Lucius Malfoy, and the Dark Lord, himself, have all trained him. There are rumors that his son learned to use the Unforgivables when he was nine. Bellatrix practically told us that he was there when they tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom. She said it was for a lesson on the Cruciatus Curse. I'm assuming they made the boy tortured the Longbottoms to make sure he got the hang of it."

At these words, the room went still. Everyone in the Order had been friends with Frank and Alice. They were hard not to love. The fact that a nine year old boy played a part in their insanity was disturbing, to say the least.

Many people in the room were silently condemning the boy. There was no way he could be saved, and they had no desire to help him. Now, instead of wanting to capture him so he could learn the truth about Voldemort, they wanted him captured, so he would get chucked Azakaban and get the justice that he deserved. More than one person wanted him to be administered the Kiss.

Jacob did not notice their reactions to his words. "From what I understand, the boy went on his first mission, that's what the Dark Lord calls it when he sends his son to go kill traitorous Death Eaters, when he was ten. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange went with him on that one, but I don't think the Dark Lord's son ever wanted company again. He likes to work alone, which explains why he's never been on a raid.

"I've never seen his face, he's always wearing a gold Death Eater mask. He's young. I think Yaxley's daughter is his girlfriend; she's always holding his hand in the meetings." Jacob paused. "There are rumors that he's going on the raid tomorrow morning."

James's head snapped up. "I have an idea of how to capture him."

* * *

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**Thanks so much to the people who have reviewed, have put this on their story alerts/favourites, and have put me on their favourite authors! You guys are amazing.**


	5. Fight or Flight

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy". Also, PDO helped me write most of this chapter, (:**

* * *

Bellatrix woke Harry before sunrise the next morning. She took him out to the training grounds to brush up on some dueling techniques. Harry didn't need it, but it was fun for him to beat Bella in all their duels.

Harry was sad, knowing that this would be his last playful duel with her for awhile. However long it took Draco to kill Dumbledore, that's how long he would be away. Harry knew that he would miss his assignments, Aunt Bella and Uncle Rodolphus, and most of all, he would miss his father. It would feel very wrong to not be near him. Harry had never been away from him for more then two days and he was used to being in his father's presence.

After sunrise, Bella took him inside, so he could take a shower and get ready. "Harry, don't forget your mask," Bellatrix told him. Harry sighed, wondering how long he would be able to keep the Order from burning it.

When he came of the bathroom after taking a shower, Harry got dressed in his trusty red shirt and jeans that were splattered in blood. He took a few minutes to look around him room, before he tidied his already neat desk and straightened his sheets. He knew he would be back, of course, but feelings of nostalgia couldn't be stopped from seeping in. Harry sat down at his desk a few times, intending to write a note to his father, but words wouldn't come. Maybe it was better this way.

Harry did not know how long he had been sitting there when Uncle Rodolphus came to collect him. Harry pressed the metal of his mask against his face for the last time in awhile. With mask firmly in place, Rodolphus led him to the dining room, where the Death Eaters were gathering.

Harry let Bellatrix enter his mind to show him the purpose and location of the raid. Harry smiled; they were raiding Diagon Alley. It was still about one week too early to be shopping for school supplies, and the Death Eaters intended to show the Wizarding World that even the Aurors stationed there could not protect them.

When Harry and Rodolphus enter the dining room, Bellatrix was already giving instructions. "Nott, Avery, and Yaxley you'll be stationed by the Leaky Cauldron. Remember, we're not just there to duel, we're there to leave a _lasting impression_. Set as many buildings on fire as you can," she said. Nott, Avery and Yaxley all nodded and sunk back into their thoughts.

They seemed to be some of the last ones to be given instructions, as Bella didn't go on. She walked over to Harry and Rodolphus. She kissed his husband softly and ruffled Harry's already bedraggled hair. "You'll be with us outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Make sure to set as many things on fire as you can, when you're not duelling," Rodolphus told him. "And Harry?" Bellatrix said. "Be careful, okay? This whole raid reeks of Dumbledore." Harry nodded.

Seemingly hours later, although Harry knew it could not have been more then half an hour, Bella announced that they were ready to go. They had all agreed to disapparate at the same time, and they would all apparate to different locations in Diagon Alley. Before disapparating, Harry was given strict instructions to stay close to either Rodolphus or Bellatrix.

Rodolphus gave the signal to disapparate. A uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a narrow tube greeted Harry. A second later, he felt his feet hit pavement.

* * *

Order members walked around Diagon Alley that morning, trying to remain inconspicuous. Most of the Order was there, with only Lily, Molly, Dumbledore, and Snape staying behind. Dumbledore was too busy for the raid, Snape stayed out for obvious reasons, and Molly and Lily were too scared to leave their children without both their parents, should something unimaginable happen.

While they waited for the raid to begin, James's thoughts went to Lily and Emma. They would be going back to Hogwarts in two weeks; Emma as a third year Gryffindor and Lily as the potions professor. James had grown to hate those long months they were away. Sure, he came up for Emma's quidditch games and Hogsmeade weekends, but it was always too long a stretch for James. He sighed.

Hopefully this year, he would be busy helping Dark Lord's son realize the lies he was brought up to believe. Dumbledore wanted the boy brought to headquarters where his future could be decided. Most of the Order wanted him in Azkaban, but Dumbledore was adamant about trying to save him. James thought Dumbledore was off his rocker; how could a boy who tortured people into insanity at the age of nine have any hope of turning to the right side?

James walked into Arthur's twin sons' joke shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, feeling proud. Molly and Arthur had joined the Order when Emma was first born, and James and Sirius immediately took young Fred and George under their wing. James and Sirius had fed into every mischievous idea Fred and George conceived. They helped them with their products and even helped Fred and George slice the ribbon when the shop opened.

James was just about to pick up a strange new candy when the area outside the store filled with the sound of nearly fifty people apparating. He immediately drew his wand and ran outside to see Death Eaters setting fire to buildings and duelling the outnumbered Order of the Phoenix. A teenager with a bright gold Death Eater mask stood near Bellatrix Lestrange, laughing as he hit an Auror with the cruciatus curse.

* * *

Harry could not help the malicious laugh that escaped his lips as the Auror fell in front him. The Auror's muscles spasmed from the pain, and he screamed, as if white hot knifes penetrated his body. Harry lifted the curse after a minute or two when Bella told him to stop.

"We've come to kill, Harry, not torture," She said before killing the Auror herself. An Order member threw a curse at her; which Bellatrix easily reflected. Her wand flourished without wasted movements as she unleashed her own curse. However, her opponent proved capable, and it was not long before she became consumed in battle.

Meanwhile Harry stomped on the dead Auror's wand, snapping it in two. It wouldn't help for an Order member or Auror to use it, should they lose their own wand. All around him, Death Eaters were shouting curses at their opponent or trying to set more of the buildings on fire. Harry suddenly remembered that his job there was to set buildings on fire.

He turned towards the ice cream parlour in which he was instructed to destroy and felt a pang of mournfulness. It was the only place he had been to in Diagon Alley and it held happy memories for him. When he was seven, his aunt and uncle took him there after he had grown restless of staying in his room during Death Eater meetings. They took him again after he went to St. Mungo's for his scar. Harry could still taste the cold, chocolate dish melt in his mouth.

Just as he was about to say the curse that would catch Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour on fire, three red curses flew toward Harry. Growling, he stepped out of the way in the nick of time. Lucius had taught him how to avoid spells when he first started training. Now, it was a reflexive move and used little more thought then falling asleep.

Surprise flitted across the three Order members who fired the curses. Harry recognized them as James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. They had not expected him to know they were there, let alone dodge all three stupefies. The three men surrounded Harry, but, he felt anything but worried. Adrenaline and magic pumped through his veins at the prospects of fighting the three men. On all his raids, the most he had dueled at once had been two.

"Stupefy!" James shouted, but Harry conjured a full-body shield before the word was even completed.

James ducked out of the way as his spell rebounded off of the boy's shield. Harry threw sectumsempra at Sirius Black as he watched James jump out of the way of his own curse. Harry's spell hit Sirius square in the chest, staining Black's shirt red. The Auror froze, feeling sick at the amount of blood leaving him. Harry smirked behind his mask as he leveled his wand. As he was about to deliver the final blow, Sirius dissappeared with pop.

"Stupefy!" Remus shouted. His face was wet from beads of sweat rolling down it. If only Dumbledore hadn't ordered stupefy to be the only spell they could use on the boy.... Remus doubted that him and James could go on like this much longer. The boy, however, looked as though he was having the time of his life. His eyes, the only part of his face they could see, seemed to shine with joy, and his cruel laugh rang out around them. The boy needed to be caught soon; otherwise, he would slip through their fingers.

Harry rolled his eyes as he dodged the spell. Was the stunning spell all they taught in Hogwarts? "Pertificus Totalus," Harry said lazily at Remus Lupin before he could attempted to stun Harry again. Instantaneously, Remus's arms and legs snapped together, and he connected with the ground.

James blinked as his friend fell to the pavement, while he pursed his lips. How could a mere boy of sixteen render two highly trained duellists unable to fight? The boy had not even broken a sweat, while the three Marauders had tired desperately to capture him. James scowled as Rodolphus Lestrange arrived to help the boy duel. James knew he would lose. The odds at two to one were too unfavorable, especially when he had to protect a frozen Remus. So far, the kid had seemed unwilling to use the Killing Curse, but James knew from experience that Rodolphus would not be so kind.

Surprisingly, the teenager waved him away, shouting to stop protecting him--"I'm not ten anymore! I can do this on my own!"--and even more surprising, Rodolphus listened. He took one sweeping look at James before he walked away. James's arm itched to curse his retreating form but he controlled the urge. There were more pressing matters at hand.

James took two steps towards the boy, nearly closing the gap between them. He wanted to kill the boy who had tortured Frank and Alice. His hands shook from wanting to punch the teenager. Instead, he shouted a stunning spell.

Harry instinctively jumped out of the way before he remembered that he was not here to win the duel. He was there to be captured. His father's warning echoed in his head: "_To ensure that the Order doesn't kill you during the raid you'll need to take your mask off_."

Harry looked at James Potter for a moment. Did the man have it in him to kill a sixteen year old? Pure fury danced in James's eyes, and Harry knew that James's anger would make him kill if the chance would present itself. He decided that this was as good a time as any to take off his mask.

Eyes widening, James watched the boy pocket his wand. James raised his wand. The boy's eyes followed it. James was about to say the curse. The teenager took off his mask.

James skirted back, as if confronted with a snake. He nearly tripped over his feet as he took in the boy's unruly hair, black as sin and identical to his own. The sixteen year old was James, right down to his build. But, there was something that didn't belong to James. Shockingly green eyes waited for him to react--the same eyes James saw when he looked at when he saw Lily and Emma. "_It can't be. He... Harry's dead. For fifteen years. He's been dead for fifteen years... although, we never found his body. No. Harry's dead. Even Emma knows it. He was killed the day Peter brought him to Voldemort_."

Suddenly, Voldemort's son's age entered James's mind. Sixteen years old. The same age Harry would have been.

"Hello James," Harry said between laughs, taking two quick steps towards him. James seemed to be having a hard time finding air.

"Harry!" Bellatrix yelled as the Auror she'd been duelling slumped to the ground, dead. She saw Harry had taken off his mask.

"_How long as she been there_?" Harry thought. "Not now," Harry said to her. It had come out much harsher then he had intended. Guilt washed through him when he saw Bella looking at him, hurt and concern written on her face. How long would it be until he saw her again? Harry knew that she did not know about the plan and she would be devastated. She loved Harry, or, at the very least, loved the fact that she was always in the Dark Lord's good graces because of him. A lump formed in Harry's throat. "Mother," He quietly tacked onto the end as he put his mask back on, appeasing Bella. His eyes shifted to a blue bird that flew to her nest full of peeping chicks, despite the fires. A strange feeling of envy came over Harry.

The wind flew out of James when he heard his son's name on Bellatrix Lestrange's lips. James heard the boy--Harry--call to her harshly, and then add the word that made James want to kill Bellatrix. "Mother," Harry whispered softly. His eyes, Lily's eyes, grew soft as they rested on the bird for a moment, before hardening again.

James's mind was having a hard time registering what was going on around him. Harry was alive. That, in and of itself, was a miracle. The thought of it had haunted James and Lily's dreams for fifteen years.

And yet, James couldn't help but feel as though he didn't want Harry. He didn't want Voldemort's son. He wanted his son. He wanted the wobbly baby who flew flawlessly, even if he spent more time falling over then he did walking. Almost robotically, James lifted his arm and muttered the stunning spell.

Moving in auto-pilot, James walked over to Harry and took him up in his arms for the first time in fifteen years. He noticed a furiously red, lightning bolt shaped scar resting on Harry's forehead. Bellatrix rushed forward, her wand already ready to curse James away from Harry. When he saw this, James apparated with Harry back to headquarters.


	6. 12 Grimmauld Place

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy"**

* * *

When James apparated into 12 Grimmauld Place's kitchen, the first thing he noticed was Molly bandaging Sirius's chest. The bandages ran red, but Molly said it would be fine.

James stood up and backed away from Harry, whose breathing remained ragged; his eyes were still closed. James had his eyes locked on the boy as Molly and Sirius questioned him.

"James? Is...is that him?" Molly asked, taking the tiniest of steps towards Harry.  
"The prat got me with that sectumsempra," Sirius said, jumping off the counter top where he had been sitting, looking tremendously like a small child. For the first time since he had arrived, Molly glanced at James, while Sirius snatched away the boy's wand.

James only looked half there, as if he thought he was at Diagon Alley, still fighting. His eyes were locked on Voldemort's son, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. He was taking deep, shaky breathes, matching those belonging to the teenager.

"James...James, are you okay?" Molly said, walking towards him.

"Sirius," James croaked, "take off his mask." His voice was thick, as if there was a lump in his throat. Sirius gave James one, long look before tentatively walking towards the boy and removing the mask.

Sirius dropped the mask as he took in the teenager's appearance. Unlike James, who jumped away from Harry, Sirius got closer, as if a tiny detail would somehow make this boy a stranger. His eyes raked over the angry red scar that made it's home on Harry's forehead.

Sirius's voice shook when he began to talk. "J-J-James..." Sirius coughed, clearing his throat. "It's probably a trick. Har-he has to, I mean, the kid has to be handed over. Even Dumbledore must know that." James stared at his friend, as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"I think I know my own son, Sirius. It's Harry. And I'm not letting him be handed over before we have a chance to help him," James stated firmly. He turned to Molly and said, "Keep Lily and the kids out of the kitchen for awhile. I need time." Molly nodded and hurried into the other room, where Lily would, no doubt, be healing other Order members. The kids were all upstairs, oblivious to the fact that Voldemort even had a son.

"How am I going to tell Lily? She's wanted nothing other then for Harry to be alive for fifteen years but... not like this! Not a murderer!" James said heatedly. Sirius hesitated for a moment before saying, "You have to tell her." James sighed.

"I know that."

Voices from the other room drifted into the kitchen. "Why can't I go in the kitchen, Molly?" Lily's voice said. She sounded annoyed and worried. "Is something wrong with James?"

"Well, James said to tell you to stay out of the kitchen. They've got He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's son in there," Molly answered.

"For the hundredth time, Molly, saying the name Voldemort will not make him just appear on your doorstep," Lily said. Before Molly could stop her, the kitchen door swung open, and Lily came striding in.

"Where is the boy?" Lily said cheerfully. "I'm sure he's hungry. I could make him some soup or grilled cheese." Her view of the teenager on the floor was obstructed by the table.

James sighed. Only Lily would think of feeding Voldemort's son grilled cheese.

"Lily," he started warily. "I have something to tell you about Voldemort's son." Sirius quickly made an excuse and left the room.

Lily was about to answer when they heard the teenager coughing and moan. "Bloody hell," the boy said, coughing once more. The voice made Lily's stomach churn. She couldn't place it, but it sounded so familiar. She took small, cautious steps so the boy came into her view.

She stared at the coughing boy for a long time before looking up at James. "It's him, Lily," James said quietly.

Lily took a deep, shaky breath and nodded slightly, as if she had worked something out. She walked over the cupboards, took out a glass and said, "Do you want s-some water? We have butterbeer too, if that's what you'd like. I can make something for you, if you're h-hungry." Her voice and her hands shook as she fumbled around for a few more cups.

Harry sat up and took in his surroundings. It was a large kitchen with a fireplace at one end and a large wooden table near him. Harry's head was pounding. There was James Potter standing near him, looking staggeringly tall from Harry's view on the floor. There was a red headed woman Harry didn't recognize talking to him, saying something about food. He concluded that the woman was James's wife, Lily. "_Time to start acting_," Harry thought.

He reached for his wand, ready to stun the couple in the kitchen, only to find out that they had taken it. "Where's my wand?" He growled, interrupting the woman.

Lily was taken back. Not in her most horrible nightmares could she have imagined a voice that menacing coming out of her son's mouth. His voice surged with hatred and disgust. She took an involuntary step away from the boy--from Harry--before James said, "You understand why we took it away. It's for everyone's best interest."

Harry snorted and quickly retorted, "It won't be in your best interest when my father finds out."

The word stung James, but he tried not to let it show. "_Better start trying to help him now_," James thought. "Harry, I'm your father," he said firmly.

"It's a minor technicality that I'm related to you and the mudblood," Harry said, nodding his head towards Lily. James opened his mouth to tell Harry to never use that word, but Harry didn't pause long enough to give him a chance to talk. "Have no doubt, I am Voldemort's son," Harry said.

In that moment, Dumbledore came bursting through the door flanked by Sirius and Remus, who looked a bit peaky but overall alright.

Dumbledore, Sirius, and Remus stared at the boy for a long time. Harry, who didn't like the scrutinizing, looked at Sirius and growled, "If you've broken my wand, I'll kill before you even know what's hit you." Sirius shook slightly at hearing such threatening words coming out of his godson's mouth and knowing that Harry meant what he said. He obviously had no qualms about killing.

"Harry," Dumbledore began, but Harry's eyes never wavered from Sirius; Harry's threat looming in the air. Harry didn't look as though he heard anyone speaking at all, let alone to him.

"Your name is Harry, isn't it?" James asked, thinking Voldemort might have fashioned Harry with a different name. Harry made the smallest nod that nearly went unnoticed before he seemed to remember that his current company had the power to chuck him in Azkaban.

"Harry," Dumbledore said again, "You should behave yourself, while you're here. If you can't do that, I'll have no other choice but to hand you over to the ministry." He didn't like threatening the boy, but Harry needed to understand what could happen to him. "Right now, many at the ministry feel that because of your actions, you should be placed in Azkaban by tomorrow, but the minister has agreed to let you stay here until a final decision can be made."

"Pity," Harry said dryly, not bothered by the news of the ministry wanting him in Azkaban. He knew his father could get him out of the prison, if Harry needed it. Voldemort had the dementors wrapped around his finger.

"Where am I?" Harry said, picking up an apple from the fruit bowl on the table and began munching on it. He had skipped breakfast that morning, and his stomach had been growling.

_"Didn't take long for him to make himself at home_," Sirius thought. "The Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix," he answered. The corners of Harry's mouth pulled into a frown at the mention of Voldemort's enemies.

"Ugh," Harry groaned.

"Harry, if you're hungry, I can make you something," Lily said, speaking for the first time since Harry had called her a mudblood. She had been barely offended by the word. She had expected that any child raised by Voldemort would have called her that name.

"I would never eat something made by a filthy mudblood," Harry said calmly. He was here on his father's orders, but that didn't mean he had to cooperate.

James's temper flared, "Don't you ever call her that!"

"I do as I please!" Harry shouted, his temper matching James's.

Harry stepped towards James, intending on breaking his jaw with a swift punch, but Dumbledore stepped in between them. "Remus, Sirius, take Harry upstairs and give him a room. Guard his room, make sure no one comes near it, especially the other children." Sirius and Remus each nodded, grabbed Harry's upper arms, and began walking him out of the kitchen.

"Get your filthy hands off of me, I can walk on my own!" Harry shouted. Remus and Sirius tightened their grips.  
_  
"Sorry, Harry, but it's for your own good_," Remus thought mournfully. Surely, there was a better way to go about this.

"Not a chance, Harry," Sirius said, while he and Remus led Harry upstairs. Remus was thankful that the children were too preoccupied to come out of their rooms to see what all the fuss was about.

Sirius couldn't break his gaze over Harry as he was leading him upstairs. The more he looked at harry, the more he could see his godson. Somewhere beneath Harry's hostile eyes were the eyes that lit up with joy uring his first birthday. Sirius clung to the notion that this was the same Harry he had so often taken to the Muggle playground.

Finally, they reached the room that Harry was to be staying in. After telling Harry to stay in his room until someone allowed him out, Remus walked out . Sirius stood still, desperately wanted to say something reassuring to his godson, but he had no idea what words would make the situation okay. Harry hated him, hated James and Lily, hated Dumbledore. Harry was raised as Voldemort's son, and no amount of reassuring words would change the fact that Harry was a murderer.

"I hear you were raised by Bellatrix," Sirius said, not knowing what else he could say.

"My life with my father is none of your business," Harry said coolly. His back was to Sirius, and he was looking out the window. "Close the door on your way out."

Harry heard Sirius sigh before closing the door. He heard the distinctive click of a lock before realizing that he truly was being held prisoner. No matter how righteous these people thought they were, Harry knew that they were much worse than his father. His father's prisoners at least knew they were being held captive. These people gave Harry the luxury of a bed and hot food, but there he was locked away by himself. Harry idly wondered if his fate would be the way his father's prisoners were.

"_No_," Harry thought. Surely, these people, who claimed to be so good and pure, would give him a second chance not that Harry would use it. Dumbledore, said to be able to find the good in anyone, would try to _save_ Harry. Why did everyone assume he needed saving?

Besides, his father had always promised Harry that if he wanted Harry killed, he would would do it himself. "_Father wouldn't send me here, if he thought they were going to kill me_."

Harry did not know how long they kept him in that room. He paced back and forth, thoroughly contemplating the next few months or however long it would take Draco. He tried to take his mind off things by reading some of the books around the room, but they were all rather dry. The longer he was in the room the more it seemed to be shrinking, until it seemed too tiny to bear being in. Sure, he had been forced to stay in his room during Death Eater meetings when he was a small child, but after he began his training, he would just go out to the woods and practice.

Finally, he heard a woman's voice shooing away someone outside the door. "Go eat some lunch, Sirius, I can handle it from here," the voice said.

Harry heard the the door unlock and open. He stared at the red-headed woman, who claimed to be his mother, as she came in. She was holding a tray of hot food. Harry sneered at the food and said stubbornly, "I'm not eating that."

The woman chuckled and said, "I haven't even breathed on it, I swear. I'll have you know a pure blood made this. Molly's much better at cooking than I am." She smiled sadly at Harry. Her baby boy.

When she smiled at him, Harry felt strange, as if her smile should make him smile. He blinked and looked down at the food. "I'm not hungry," he said. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly. The woman laughed at him. "Fine," he grumbled and sat down on the bed to begin eating quickly.

The woman sat down next to him and watched for a bit. "Can I help you with something?" Harry said heatedly.

She smiled sadly at him, shook her head, and walked out. She didn't lock the door. Harry had a swift thought that it was a trap; that she wanted him to go out so they could set him up as trying to escape. The thought passed quickly. For some reason, Harry felt he should trust the woman.

After he was finished eating, he left the tray on his bed and walked out the open door.

* * *

Neville and the other teenagers staying at Grimmauld Place that summer had been told to stay in their rooms until all the Order were back. Everyone except the twins gathered in Neville and Ron's bedroom.

Neville had been pretending to be asleep. In reality, he was thinking about the upcoming year. Dumbledore had promised to show him memories involving Voldemort's past. Frankly, Neville thought that the present Voldemort posed much more of a threat but, he wholeheartedly trusted Dumbledore.

Ron had been trying to teach Emma how to play Wizard's chess but, he was crushing her. Hermione was, of course, reading, this time it was an old textbook. Ginny was flung over an arm chair, reading Witch Weekly. Overall, it had been a very lazy day for the teenagers.

When Mrs. Potter came in to tell them that lunch was ready, they were all curious as to how the Death Eater raid went. The only thing the Order would tell them was that the raid was probably going to be dangerous, but it was essential to win the war.

They went downstairs and began firing questions at James, Sirius, Remus, and Arthur, but the only things they would say was, "The mission was successful. That's all you need to worry about."

In a way, it made Neville angry. If he was "The Chosen One," then surely, they should tell him. He should be involved in the war; after all, it had been lain on his shoulders to defeat Voldemort. No one would be able to do it for him, and the more he knew about every aspect of the war, the better.

However, Neville stayed quiet during lunch, letting his anger brew, because all the adults looked severely shaken. James and Lily, he noticed, looked as though they had been dragged through hell and back. "_They looked like they've seen a ghost_," Neville thought, while eating his soup.

Emma noticed that her parents were acting strangely, too. Halfway through the lunch, she asked quietly, "Mum, are you alright? You and Dad look awful."

Lily chuckled and said, "Always one with the compliments, Emma. Your father and I are fine. It's just been a long day." Emma nodded and went back to eating her soup.

When they were walking back upstairs, Emma thought she saw Lily preparing a tray of food, but Ginny pulled her out of the kitchen before Emma could ask.

"Hurry up, Emma, Fred and George said they have something to tell us," Ginny whispered, so that no adults could hear her. Emma forgot about the tray of food and her parent's haunted faces as she raced upstairs to hear whatever the twins had to say.

As soon as Emma closed the door of the twin's bedroom, they exclaimed, "There's some guy that looks exactly like Mr. Potter in the room across the hall! We saw him being brought up. Sirius and Remus locked him up in there all day. That's way Sirius was sitting outside the door on our way to lunch." Emma tried to remember, if she had seen Sirius sitting outside, but she could not recall.

Hermione looked disgruntled. "They told us to stay in our room for a reason. That guy could be dangerous, which is obviously why they have him locked up in there."

Fred and George sat on either side of her. "Well, Miss. Granger, for once in our lives, we weren't sneaking out of our rooms or doing anything wrong," Fred said. Before Hermione could say anything, George said, "I went to the bathroom and saw them carry him up. Besides, he can't be _that_ dangerous. He looked about your age."

"Wonder who he is," Emma said quietly, thinking about her parent's lost faces.

"Who cares? They'll tell us eventually," Neville asked and left the room. Everyone except the twins filed out after him. Neville was so accustomed to having no one come upstairs that he wasn't even paying attention when his body slammed into another.

* * *

Where the bloody hell was the bathroom in this place? Harry had wandered around the entire floor searching for one. He had not gone since the night before, and it was killing him.

He had not been paying attention when his body rammed into Neville Longbottom's. Harry recognized him instantly. When Harry was nine, he had played God as he had often done since and tortured Neville's parents into insanity. It wasn't something Harry easily forgot.

"Watch where you're going, you little blood traitor," Harry said curtly.

"Who the hell are you?" Neville said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at Harry's throat.

Harry laughed at first being little more than a small chuckle before growing into a booming laugh. He laughed until tears came to his eyes. "You...honestly believe...that _you_...could defeat _me_...in a duel," Harry said in between fits of laughter. If only this kid, Dumbledore's golden boy, knew what Harry had done.

His laughter ended abruptly when he felt rough hands pushed him back into that awful bedroom. He identified the aurors Mad-Eye Moody and Kinglsey to be the ones pulling him into the room before they slammed the door. Harry heard three different locks click.

* * *

Neville watched as the two aurors shoved the teenager into the bedroom across the hall from the twin's and bolt the doors.

Emma's parents, Sirius, Ron's parents, and Remus were running up the stairs, each calling out different things. Neville didn't catch any of the things being said; they all ran together in one jumbled blur.

"Mum...who was that?" Emma asked quietly.


	7. Albus Dumbledore

**  
Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy" **

* * *

Bellatrix trembled before the Dark Lord. She had just delivered the news of Harry's capture. She thought she saw a flicker of happiness in his eyes for a moment, but she wrote it off as her imagination. She barely had time to prepare herself before she was hit with the Cruciatus Curse. She fell to the ground, flailing helplessly in pain.

Whether the curse lasted was seconds or hours, Bella couldn't tell. It was rare that Voldemort used the curse on her as he favored her over all his Death Eaters. As she tried to catch her breathe, she cried, "Forgive me, My Lord. I'll get him as back as soon as I can. James Potter will pay for this...Harry will be back soon. "

"Stand up, Bellatrix," Voldemort commanded, and she obliged. The rest of the Death Eaters in the room held their breathes, waiting to see what would happen. It was so unusual for Voldemort punished Bellatrix, and it something of a treat for the people he punished often. Rodolphus looked as though he wanted to go stand by his wife, but he knew he couldn't. When Bellatrix stood in front of the Dark Lord, she was very alone.

"We will leave the boy with the Order." Bellatrix opened her mouth to argue but quickly thought better of it. "My old professor will put him in Hogwarts, believing him to be savable. Harry will assist Draco with his mission. I'm sure both Harry and Draco will be more than willing. Lucius, you will tell Draco to get help from Harry," Voldemort said. Lucius nodded fiercely, as if wanting to prove himself more agreeable than Bellatrix. Lucius knew that Harry's presence would increase Draco's determination to prove himself, as Harry would be taking over for the Dark Lord in a years time.

Rodolphus stepped out of line and stood by his wife. "My...My Lord, I believe that we need to get Harry back. You've put too much stock into the boy for him to turn his back on you now," Rodolphus said, knowing the words were wrong before being hit with the Cruciatus Curse. Rodolphus fell to the ground and began kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. Voldemort lifted to curse after several minutes. "Forgive me...forgive me," he mumbled, over and over. Voldemort seemed to entertain the thought of letting Rodolphus stay like that for the rest of the meeting before pulling his robes away.

"Stand up, Rodolphus." Rodolphus took a breathe and stood next to his wife, entwining his hand in hers without thought.

"My son will never turn away from me. Don't let yourself forget that again, Rodolphus," Voldemort said, his cold voice echoing throughout the chamber.

"Yes my Lord," Rodolphus said.

The Dark Lord sat on his throne on the raised platform and said, "Now, about this next raid..." He seemed to push all thoughts of Harry of his mind.

* * *

"Emma, come with us," Lily said after Emma asked who Harry was. "The rest of you, stay in your rooms, and for goodness sake, stay away from his." Everyone understood what she was saying: Keep your heads down, and we will tell you later. Lily put her arm around Emma's shoulders and led her down the stairs.

"Dad, who was that?" Emma asked, her voice shaking as they entered the kitchen.

"Emma...you remember how your older brother's body was never found?" James asked, choosing each word carefully.

Emma nodded slowly, jumping to the conclusion that it was Harry locked up upstairs. A feeling of happiness erupted in Emma's stomach. Her brother was alive! She wanted to bolt up the stairs into Harry's room and meet him. So, why did her parents look as if this was very bad news? Her parents, who locked themselves in Harry's room every year on his birthday, looked as though something awful had just happened to them.

"What's wrong? What happened to him?"

"You know how we always thought your brother to have died the night Peter took him to Voldemort?" James said. Lily made a sobbing sound, and Emma saw that she had began crying. Emma nodded.

"Voldemort...well, he didn't kill him. He...he raised him as his own," James said, having trouble finding words.

"Harry...he's...he's Voldemort's son?" Emma asked, the happiness in her stomach being replaced with dread. Two weeks ago using their Extendable Ears, Fred and George had heard something about Voldemort having a son, who had been responsible for thirty odd deaths. The teenagers had poured over the information from what his name was to how he had been raised. It was constantly on their minds.

"Emma, Harry is mine and your mother's son. He will never be Voldemort's son," James said firmly.

Lily looked at Emma and said, "You know what Harry's done, don't you?"

Emma turned to her mother and said, "How'd you know we knew?"

Lily barked a laugh and said, "You guys should be quieter when you're talking about things you shouldn't know about." James cracked a smile at the blush that appeared on his daughter's cheeks.

Emma laughed at the irony of it all. All she ever wanted was her brother back, and now that he was here, he wanted to kill her. Her brother had murdered thirty-some people on Voldemort's orders. The one that supposed to defeat Voldemort loved him like Emma loved James.

"Can I meet him?" Emma asked, feeling as though it was suddenly very important.

"No, absolutely not," James said, "not until we find out how dangerous he is. Now go upstairs and tell your friends all about Harry." James winked.

Emma sighed and walked upstairs.

As soon as she opened the door she was ambushed by her friends.

* * *

The rest of the day passed slowly for Harry. He tried to sleep most of the day, floating in and out of consciousness. He felt strange in Grimmauld Place. The family home of Bellatrix. He thought about her and the woman downstairs. Lily Potter claimed to be his mother, but it had been Bellatrix who had raised him.

Harry dragged out a memory from when he was four. He had just moved into his father's home, and there had been a Death Eater meeting. He had been running around his new home, and he had accidentally ran in on the Death Eater's meeting. He had been so confused when his father started to yell at him to get out. Aunt Bella and Uncle Rodolphus had never yelled at him like that; he didn't know how to react. Even then, Harry had hated situations that he had no control over, so he had started to cry. While Rodolphus wiped the other Death Eater's memories of seeing Harry, Bellatrix had picked him up and quickly taken him outside to soothe him.

It had always been Harry's favorite memory of Bellatrix. They had gone for a walk through what would become Harry's training grounds, just talking. The quietness of the forest had soothed Harry and still soothed Harry to this day.

It was anything but quiet in the Order's headquarters. The teenagers in the house stomped around like wild animals, and the loud pops of apparations rang through the house like Muggle church bells through a village.

The only time it had been quiet was during what Harry assumed to be dinner. The house settled into tranquility with only the clanking of dishes and requests for seconds echoing into Harry's room. At one point during the silence, Harry heard two voices outside his door, saying something about switching guards.

Harry settled back into a state between awake and dreaming.

He heard his door open abruptly, and he growled in reply. "Leave me alone," he mumbled, but no one seemed to hear him.

He sat up and put on his glasses.

Albus Dumbledore focused into Harry's view. James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus all stood behind Dumbledore, following him in like puppies.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore said.

If Harry had the choice, he would have been as far away from Dumbledore as possible. In ordinary circumstances, he would jump across the room and strangle his father's enemy. But, he knew Dumbledore's time was limited, and the thought pacified him.

Harry tried to ignore the man and fall back asleep.

"Harry, sit up, please. This is important; it'll determine whether or not you are sent to Azkaban," Lily said.

Harry knew his father wouldn't like it if he had to come bail Harry out of Azkaban, so he sat up and tried to look as though he was listening. His father needed Harry at Hogwarts.

"There we go. See? It's not hard to cooperate," James said, crossing the room to sit at the chair in the corner.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this over with. It's been a long day," Harry said.

Dumbledore chuckled and said, "It has, hasn't it? I've been in a meeting with the Minister ever since you were brought here. He seems rather keen on putting you in Azkaban, but I've talked him out of it for now. Now, Harry, as to why we woke you," at this, Dumbledore cleared his throat before asking Harry, "Why did Voldemort take you from your parents?"

Harry wasn't surprised about the question; he had grown up hearing that Voldemort was thought to be very evil for the lives he took. Harry had always been thankful for it, for if Voldemort had not taken him, Harry knew that he would be the Ministry's poster boy for hope and not the Longbottom boy. The thought of it made Harry sick to his stomach.

He recited what he had grown up hearing. "My father took me away for my own benefit. He knew that you would control me, I would never be anything thing to you other than a tool like the Longbottom's boy. Of course, that's not to say that my father hasn't gotten any benefits from raising me. I'm a obedient son."

Harry's words seemed to have an iron grip on Lily's heart. She could not imagine the lies her son must have been brought up with. She felt helpless against the situation Harry was facing and she felt an overwhelming desire to hug her son, but she restrained herself.

Dumbledore nodded. "I see," he stated simply.

Harry laid back down, determined to not let the five pairs of eyes find anything interesting.

"How many Death Eaters have you killed on Voldemort's order's, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"Dunno," Harry stated, honestly, "I stopped counting two years ago."

"How long have you been killing?"

"Six years."

"Why does Voldemort want you to kill them?"

Harry considered giving him the long list of reasons but, decided to keep it short. "Their usefulness had run it's course."

Everyone in the room could hear Voldemort when Harry spoke. In a way it made sense, Voldemort raised Harry so, of course, he would sound like him. But, no one in the room was ready for Voldemort's manner of speech to come out of Harry's mouth. There was the same hiss when Harry pronounced "_s_," and the same way he spoke as if he was above everyone, as Voldemort had when he was speaking. Lily could feel tears burn her eyes, but she held them back.

"Do you use the Unforgivables well, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry snorted and answered, "Seeing as everyone I've used them on is dead, and I'm still around, I'd say I do." Dumbledore nodded and walked out with everyone following suit. After hearing the door lock, Harry's eyelids felt very heavy. He didn't fight them as they slid closed.

* * *

Long after the children had gone to bed, the Order of the Phoenix came together for a meeting. Remus fought to keep his eyes open. He sat beside Tonks, who's head was on the kitchen table, a soft snore coming out of her mouth. As Remus looked around, he noticed most of the Order looked exhausted. He knew some of them were injured in raid that morning. Even if they were not, everyone was up at the crack of dawn and were fighting Death Eaters before ten o' clock in the morning. Arthur Weasley's head drooped down so that his chin was touching his collar bone, his eyes closed. Lily was stationed at the sink, washing the dishes, which were piling up, the Muggle way.

Dumbledore, thanking Molly Weasley as she poured hot tea in his cup, began the meeting. "Thank you for coming at such a late hour. I know many of you are exhausted from the raid this morning--." At this, he pointedly peered around at the members who were sleeping. The people around the sleeping shook them awake. "--But, as many of you know, this meeting is of the utmost importance.

"As you all know, we caught Voldemort's son, and he is staying here. His room is under constant supervision. It was the initial plan to house the boy here for a few months to try and get passed the programing he has gone through. Of course, it was also decided that if this failed and he was still a danger it would be necessary for him to be sent to Azkaban. But, given the circumstances, the plan has changed quite a bit..."

Tonks, still groggy, said, "What do you mean 'given the circumstances'?"

Dumbledore answered, "That's right...forgive me, Tonks, I'm an old man, and I seemed to have forgotten that you are too young...." At this, he told (or reminded in some cases) the Order of how it was Harry's fate they were deciding on, how he had been taken when he was a baby, and the current situation facing them. The Order members that were fully awake were silent. Most of them remembered the horrible night Harry had been taken from James and Lily. Minerva McGonagall shuttered; she had babysat Harry from time to time when he was a baby.

Tonks hadn't taken her eyes off Lily since Dumbledore said that Harry was taken and presumed dead. "Lily...all this time, you never told me?"

Lily looked at the girl. She had always been fond of Tonks. Dumbledore had spoken highly of her when she was at Hogwarts and later Moody boasted about his protégé to anyone who stood still long enough to listen. When Tonks had joined the Order, Lily had taken her under her wing.

The room, still full of sleepy people, had gone silent as they waited for Lily's reply. "To be honest, I thought you already knew. It's a pretty popular story. I thought you were just being nice...not bring him up."

Dumbledore waited for the two woman to stop talking before continuing. Tonks turned to Dumbledore, acting as though she drew a zipper across her lips to show she was done talking, while Lily murmured something about Dumbledore making her feel like an eleven year old again under her breathe before turning back to the dishes. Dumbledore chuckled.

"As I was saying given the circumstance, it would, of course, be ideal to send Harry to Hogwarts, where Lily and I can keep an eye on him. Harry would be with a lot more people his own age than he's ever been exposed to in the past. Currently, the only people his age we know he's met is Ella Yaxley and Draco Malfoy, both of whom have fathers are who are in Voldemort's inner circle Death Eaters.

"However, if Harry was housed at Hogwarts, security would have to be increased tenfold. James, I'm sure the Minister wouldn't object to you being Harry's personal guard." James's face visibly brightened at the prospect of spending the year with Emma, Lily, and Harry.

"Remus, you would come back as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Dumbledore peered over at Remus, who nodded.

"As long as you're okay with receiving a hundred owls from parents telling you that a werewolf shouldn't be teaching their ch-ch-children," Remus answered, stifling a yawn.

"I'll sort it out," Dumbledore said. "Sirius, I'm sure you would be happy with being an Auror at Hogwarts?"

Sirius, sound asleep, snored in response. James shoved his shoulder to try and wake him, but he was dead to the world.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dumbledore said.

"The only problem now is convincing the Ministry that it would be safe for the students to have Harry there," Dumbledore continued.

"Yes, I was thinking of that. How would we know if Harry could perform wandless magic or have other abilities we're unaware of?" McGonagall asked, surely thinking of the Gryffindors sleeping upstairs. She had a soft spot for them as she had watched them grow.

"I'm sure Harry will behave himself whilst at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said with an air of finality. No one questioned him about the subject anymore.

"I have another meeting with the Minister tomorrow to determine Harry's future. I'm sure by this time tomorrow we'll all know where Harry will be spending the upcoming year," Dumbledore said, standing up and ending the meeting.

"This time tomorrow, I'll be _sleeping_," Tonks mumbled under her breathe.

Remus laughed and said, "C'mon, I'll take you to your flat."

Upstairs, Harry slept, his dreams full of green lights and high-pitched laughs he recognized as his own.


	8. Talks and Trees

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy"**

**Also, just a few quick things:**

**I'm sorry about the wait. I was away, then PDO couldn't get back to me about editing this chapter and writer's block and blah, blah, blah. Sorry. **

**I know I don't have any right, but I have a favor to ask of all of you: I want you to scroll down to the bottom of the page and click the 'Submit Review' button right now. Keep the window open, and just read my story as normal. If you read something that's funny or sad or odd or great, write it down in the review window. That way, you can keep a running score (so to speak). I think it will help me a lot more than the usual method**

* * *

For the next three days, Harry's room was guarded day in and day out. After Emma told them everything she knew, the other teenagers were going out of their minds from curiosity. They knew that he was let out twice every day so he could use the restroom but, it was always before they woke up or after they went to sleep.

"Oh, c'mon," Ron said late one night, kicking the bed post out of frustration when Tonks made Remus take watch while she went to the restroom.

"Honestly, Ron, it makes sense why they wouldn't want us talking with him," Hermione said much to everyone's annoyance. The past three days, she kept going on about how Harry was dangerous, and how they would meet him when Dumbledore felt Harry was ready.

"He's my brother," Emma said for the thousandth time. "I should at least be able to see him."

Ginny nodded and put her arm around the younger girl. While she often looked to Hermione for advice, Emma came to Ginny when she was trying to get a boy's attention or was stressed about classes. Emma was only two years younger than Ginny and found comfort in her. "Your right," Ginny said. "You should be allowed to meet your brother."

The conversation had been the same for the three days: Ron frustrated at the security measures, Hermione thought rationally even if she wanted to see Harry as much as Ron, Emma disgruntled at her parents for not allowing her to meet her brother, and Ginny comforted Emma much like an older sister would.

Neville, however, seemed to have taken a vow of silence when the others spoke of Harry. Neville did not want to meet him-did not want to know of his very existence. Dumbledore had taken Neville to retrieve the prophecy the previous year, and it scared Neville. Parts of the prophecy did not fit into Neville's description. For indeed, Voldemort never marked Neville as his equal. When he retrieved the prophecy, Dumbledore told him of the possibility of it referring to Harry had Voldemort not killed him.

Clearly, Voldemort had not killed Harry, and the thought of the true Chosen One being Voldemort's son made Neville sick. If it was Harry that the prophecy referred to, then how would Voldemort ever meet his end?

Neville also knew that it could very well have been him in the room, locked away, rather than Harry. It was merely chance that Voldemort chose Harry. Neville did not want to face what could have been his destiny.

So, he remained silent as the others groaned about Harry.

They stayed like that for some time, the hands of the clock moving half an hour.

Then, as Ron's complaints had reached the point of him shouting, Fred and George tiptoed into Ron and Neville's room.

"Blimey, Ron, shut up," Fred whispered. "Tonks fell asleep and everyone else is downstairs."

"We're sneaking into Harry's room," whispered George.

"We're coming with you," said Ron, his voice much quieter than it had been before.

"Wait," Hermione whispered as the others got up. Neville breathed a sigh of relief, Hermione would stop him from being forced into meeting Harry. "I don't think is a good idea. Dumbledore has him locked in that room for a reason!"

Emma stood up and whispered furiously, "I _am_ meeting my own brother, Hermione. You can't stop me."

Hermine looked at the fury that was evident of Emma's face. "Oh, fine," she caved. "But for Heaven's sake, bring your wands."

Neville hands shook as he grabbed his wand. He shoved them into the pockets of his jeans, along with his wand.

The six teenagers walked as quietly out of the bedroom before crossing the hall and carefully whispering Alohomora to unlock the door. Fred seized the doorknob and turned it slowly, carefully, so as not to wake Tonks. She did not stir.

They opened the door with equal care. All had their wands out, ready to curse Harry, should he try to attack them. Slowly, they filed into the room, Neville coming in last.

Harry was asleep.

Neville pocketed his wand while the other simply lowered theirs.

The boy who looked filled with hate and disgust for them the first day he were there now looked terribly ... innocent. With his eyes closed, his face settled into tranquility as he dreamed far off dreams. His mouth was not twisted into a cruel, unforgiving smirk but was replaced with a small smile, the corners of his lips barely turned upwards. His hair which was so much like James' spread wildly across the white pillowcase.

"He looks...different," Ron noted. Out of the corner of his eye, Neville saw Hermione roll her eyes.

"Of course he does, he's asleep," she said.

Emma inched closer than the others. "Harry?" she said. He did not move. "I'm Emma. I'm your sister."

"Emma, he's sleeping. He can't hear you," Ginny said tentatively.

"I know that," Emma said and sat down on the corner of Harry's bed. When he did not pop up and kill her, the others visibly relaxed. Ron sat in the chair in the corner while Ginny and Hermione sat beside Emma. Neville stayed rooted in place, feeling as though he could not take his eyes off Harry if he wanted to.

"I still can't believe my brother killed thirty-four people. When he's like this, it's hard to imagine him hurting a fly," Emma said.

It could have been Neville, lying in that bed, while the others gawked at him and the knowledge of it made Neville's stomach churn.

"He looks like Mr. Potter," Ginny said. The resemblance was striking to Ginny, because James was so good-natured and loving.

The teenagers continued to talk for a few minutes.

* * *

"Harry? I'm Emma. I'm your sister."

Harry woke to the quiet voice that sounded so much like Lily Potter's. However, he did not open his eyes.

Other voices, ones he had only heard through the door of his prison cell, floated in and out of Harry's ears. They sounded so much different when there were no walls blocking them from Harry.

After a few minutes of listening to their meaningless chatter, there was a lap of silence where Harry could feel every eye on him.

"Didn't your mothers ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

The three girls that were sitting on his bed lept up, as if it had burned them. Harry opened his eyes to find every wand trained on him.

"Oh relax," Harry said. "I don't have a wand."

No one, however, lowered their wands, except Neville, who pocketed his.

Harry felt himself fill with hatred. The Mudblood Granger girl's face was smug as she held Harry at wand point.

"Get your wand out of my face before I make you get out of my face," he said to her. She faltered for a moment before reluctantly lowered her wand.

"Can I help you with something?" Harry said evenly. He wanted to kill them all, simply because they were against his father but, he knew he could not. Not now.

No one answered him so, he asked, "Hey, do any of you know if I'm going to Hogwarts or Azkaban?"

They all seemed too scared to talk. "Did you just come to look at me or do you actually want to talk to me?"

Without realizing what he was doing, Neville said, "We came to talk."

"Put the Mudblood out and we can," Harry said. "The rest of you are pure-bloods. My father would be happy to have you join him."

At the word _Mudblood _everyone in the room started shouting insults, and Harry ducked just in time for a curse Fred Weasley threw at him. Harry saw Tonks, sitting outside his doorway, stir slightly, but she did not wake.

Harry smiled. The others took an involuntary step backwards. "Your name's Ron, right?" Harry did not wait for an answer. "Join us, my father could use pure-bloods like you. My father will reward you beyond belief when he takes over. Help us drive wizards out of hiding, Ronald." Harry knew rationally that Ron, nor anyone else in the room, would join his father. They were all buried too deep in Dumbledore's feeble attempts at stopping Voldemort. However, Harry rather enjoyed the shade of deep scarlet Ron was turning.

"I would never, _never_, join Voldemort," Ron shouted loudly. Tonks sprang up just as Harry heard the other adults rounding the stairs.

Harry smiled the cruelest smiles as the adults entered the room.

"What happened?" James shouted. He was emitting a rage that Harry had never seen on James before. His question seemed to be pointed at Harry.

"I dunno," Harry said. "I was just sleeping, and then, I heard them come in which woke me up. We were talking when he," At this, Harry pointed to Fred, "just cursed me, and this one started yelling." Harry shifted his finger toward Ron.

The adults were turning the deepest of reds. A red-headed woman started screaming at her children to get out of Harry's room. Lily grabbed Emma by the hand and dragged her out of the room. Remus, who seemed to be calm, beckoned Neville out before locking the door three times over.

"Mum! He was lying," he heard Ron's voice saying before being drowned out by Mrs. Weasley shouting at him to go downstairs.

For the next half hour, Harry heard different people yelling.

"_Stupid_! I didn't know any of you could be so ridiculously brainless..."

"I suppose you haven't heard a word we've said about him..."

"Can't believe _any_ of you..."

So it continued ... on and on until dawn. Harry did not even mind the sleepless night as he knew he would have all day to sleep. It was all he seemed to be doing with his time at Grimmauld Place.

"Now, you are all going to help Lily and I clean the sitting room," Molly Weasley's voice shouted, "And none of you are getting any rest until it's spotless!"

* * *

Sirius sighed. Dumbledore still did not know about whether Harry was going to Hogwarts, although at the very least, Dumbledore seemed assured that Harry would not be going to Azkaban. Order meetings were happening more often than ever. Dumbledore felt that the Order should be kept up-to-date with his meeting with the Minister.

Something moving in the corner of Sirius's eye made him turn. He did not want to, Molly's dinner looked delicious, and he knew that it probably Kreacher, but his feet propelled him forward without thought.

He stopped in the doorway of the room where his mother had once blasted his face off the wall. Years worth of Blacks' faces graced the walls, but none of them mattered much to Sirius. However, he found himself staring.

Harry, with his black hair cut just above his ears, and Lily's green eyes, was standing in the room, his fingers tracing one name over and over. He looked as if he could have stared forever, and it would not have been enough time. Sirius thought that perhaps it should concern him that Harry had found a way out of his room, but for the moment, Sirius did not care. He watched his godson lovingly.

"I never knew Cissy and Aunt Bella had a sister," Harry said quietly. His eyes did not come off the wall, but he knew Sirius was there. His fingers were on the wall and his eyes were staring hungrily at Bellatrix and Rodolphus' faces, trying to commit them to memory. Harry had a feeling it would be a long time before he could see them again, and the memory of their faces were beginning to be lost on him. Did Bellatrix have blue eyes or were they black? Was it Rodolphus who had a pointed chin or Lucius? How had he never thought to study their faces before now?

"Yeah, Andromeda," Sirius said, walking into the room. "She looks a bit like Bellatrix."

"Mother never mentioned her," Harry said quietly, automatically slipping into the moniker.

Sirius flinched but did not mention the word. "No, she wouldn't," he said. "Andromeda married a Muggle-born. My Aunt blasted her face off the wall the day she left."

"Serves her right," Harry mumbled, as if not wanting Sirius to hear him.

"Tonks is Dromeda's daughter," Sirius said. "Tonks isn't on here, of course. My Aunt would have never allowed it."

Harry looked around at the family tree. "You're not on here," he noted.

"I used to be," Sirius said, pointing to his blackened spot where his face once resided. "My mother did that when I ran away." There was pause before he said, "I went to your dad's. James', I mean."

There was a flash of anger in Harry's eyes. "James Potter is not my father."

"Harry, you know that James and Lily love you, don't you? They want you back," Sirius asked, uncertainly.

"I assumed they felt some kind of affection for me. But, my father ... well, I don't suppose you could understand how much he helped me. He saved me from Dumbledore's manipulation. I only wish he could have done the same for that Longbottom boy."

Sirius sighed and said, "How about you join us in the kitchen for dinner tonight?"

Harry nodded, his fingers tracing Bellatrix's face one last time.

"Oh, and Harry?" Sirius asked. Harry looked at him in response. "How'd you get out of your room?"

"Whoever was gaurding me went to the bathroom," Harry answered, walking out of the room with Sirius. "It was pretty easy."

Sirius nodded, reminding himself to tell Dumbledore Harry could do wandless magic.

They walked towards the kitchen to eat dinner.


	9. And these are the days of the year

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's "A Shattered Prophecy"**

* * *

James sat down abruptly. His mind could not keep up with his emotions. The overwhelming feeling of happiness that he should have been suffocating in had not quite reached him. Beside him, Lily stood tears of joy running down her cheek. Dumbledore had just delivered the very news that they had been waiting for.

Harry was going to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore continued talking, "James, you will, of course, be one of the aurors stationed at Hogwarts. You'll need to be with him at all times, except when he's sleeping.

Dumbledore's words were hardly registering with James. He could not stop himself from picturing Hogsmeade weekends and Quidditch games. James wondered if Harry had ever been on a broom before or knew what Quidditch was. James had heard that Draco was on the Slytherin House team, so it seemed likely that Harry at the very least understood what Quidditch was, even if he had never played.

"Harry will, of course, be placed into Gryffindor," Dumbledore said.

"He won't be sorted?" Lily asked, slightly disgruntled. She wanted Harry to have the same opportunity as everyone else.

For the first time in his life, James thought Dumbledore looked uncomfortable. "Well, the minister and I feel it would be unwise, given the ... circumstances. I'm sure you can understand that Harry being placed in Slytherin wouldn't help anything."

Lily nodded, although she still wanted Harry to be given the same sorting as the other students.

"What about his sleeping arrangements? Is he staying in a separate room in Gryffindor Tower or in a room off Lily's and mine?" James asked. As much as he loved his son, he knew that he could not be trusted be with the other Gryffindor boys his age. Even without a wand, he could perform simple spells, like he had done when he had escaped his room. He could still be a danger to Neville, Ron and the other boys he would bunk with.

"He would stay in Gryffindor Tower with the other boys his age," Dumbledore said, sounding confused as to why James would even ask the question.

"But ... Dumbledore, he could still be a danger even without a wand. We have to think about about the other boys. Maybe by the end of the year, it would be alright, but for right now, I think it would be safer to have him in a separate room."

"Harry hasn't shown any will for violence while he's been here. I doubt that he will at Hogwarts, either. Maybe his nonviolence here could mean that he wants to change. However, if that's not the case, I'm sure he knows that if he puts a toe out of line, the minister will have him shipped off to Azkaban before he can say 'Merlin.' I don't like the threat hanging over his head--."

"Nor do I," Lily interruped.

"--But, if it's what keeps him from murdering the other students, then, I can tolerate it." He chuckled, as if the fact that Harry could kill without thinking twice was a joke.

"Besides, he won't be able to do any really dangerous spells without a proper wand," Dumbledore said.

"Dumbledore, I've been meaning to ask you about that. How will Harry do any lessons without a wand?" Lily asked. For potions, it wasn't particularly important to have a wand, but for the other subjects, it would be essential.

"He'll be given a wand for his lessons, but Ollivander will make it so it won't be able to do any advance spells. It will be fine for his classes without putting any of the other students in danger."

Lily nodded and sat down beside James, taking his hand without thinking. He rubbed reassuring circles with his thumb onto her hand, while her other hand slid across her stomach.

She had a feeling that Harry had other reasons for behaving reasonably while he was with them, but she had no proof and tried to write it off. However, once the idea entered her head, she could not seem to shake it.

Lily doubted that Harry was suddenly having a serious change of heart about the war and Voldemort. Harry seemed so well adjusted to his life with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He was in a position of power, second only to Voldemort himself, and it seemed likely to Lily that Harry would eventually take over for him when the time came. For what Lily had heard about the way Harry had been raised, he lived a leisurely life, aside from his assignments, and even those, Harry did not seem too bothered by.

While Voldemort offered Harry control of the Death Eaters and the freedom to do as he pleased, the only thing the Order could offer him was the chance to not have to kill anymore, and Lily thought Harry looked as though he had no qualms about murder. While the Order was noble in their plans for Harry, Lily could easily see why Harry had not yet jumped at the chance to leave Voldemort and join Lily and James as their son.

Lily desperately wanted Harry to be their son again. She wanted to see Harry laugh and be happy while he was with them. She wanted Harry to want Voldemort defeated. The raw pain for losing her only son had tore at her every day for fifteen years and now that she knew he was alive, the only thing she wanted to do was take him into her arms and hold him like she did when he was a baby. She knew James wished to take their son flying and teach him about being a Marauder. Lily knew James had a hard time watching his son's eyes fill with abhor when James walked into the room. At least with Lily, Harry ignored her as best he could. Lily assumed this was because she was Muggle-born, and therefore, he deemed her as unworthy of his attention. However, it seemed Harry had no patience with blood traitors like James and the Weasleys and hated them on sight.

Lily could only imagine what Emma was going through. She knew Emma had always found her older brother as a symbol of hope. In fact, when Emma was eleven and just starting at Hogwarts, she confided in Lily that she was not afraid, because she knew Harry was watching over her. Emma had always thought Harry to be dead, no matter how many times the uncomfortable subject of Harry was brought up and Lily assured Emma that Lily knew Harry was still alive. Emma had always loved Harry but as a dead older brother, who guided her path gently, not as a tangible being, who looked at her with a strange mix of curiosity and detestation.

Lily looked up at Dumbledore, who gave her a reassuring smile, before he walked out to begin the Order meeting to tell them the news, leaving James and Lily to themselves.

James kissed the palm of her hand. "This is really happening..." He breathed before his face broke out into a wide smile.

"Yeah, it is," she whispered, smiling back at him.

* * *

Upstairs, Harry ached to be beyond the four walls he was confined in. It was August twenty third, and that only meant one thing to Harry.

It was Ella's birthday.

She and Harry had barely spoken about their sixteenth birthdays. In the past two summers when she was home from school, they would roam around Gaunt Manor's large yard and the forest for hours, talking about every birthday past seventeen. Harry would be the Dark Lord by then, and Ella would be his faithful fiancée, soon to be his wife. They spoke of elaborate seventeenth birthday parties; it would be Harry's first one, and they would have cake, fireworks and firewhiskey, and every Death Eater would be present.

However, a few weeks before Harry turned sixteen, they did talk about their upcoming birthdays. Harry's plans for his birthday were simple enough, he would treat it like any other day with Ella coming over to spend the night. His plans had gone smoothly with the one exception being that Ella did not spend the night due to Voldemort's need for Harry's talents elsewhere.

Ella's plans were equally simple. All she wanted to do, or so she claimed, was to spend the day with Harry. She wanted to wake up next to him and for them to have morning tea in bed. She wanted to spend every moment of the day with Harry and to not be ripped away from him for even one second. To Harry, it sounded like a day made of pure bliss. If Harry had it his way, he would never be away from Ella. He counted down the days to his marriage with her.

Harry wondered rawly what she was doing for her birthday now that he imprisoned in the Order's headquarters. He supposed that she was spending it with Bellatrix as the two were quite close and were probably sharing the pain of Harry being away; or perhaps, she was spending time with Draco as he was her friend. Whatever she was doing and wherever she was spending her day, Harry was pained with the knowledge that she was not getting what she wished. Harry would have liked nothing more than Ella getting everything she wished for.

Harry knew he had a good reason for his intentional capture. He knew his father needed him where he was. Harry knew he would be sent to Hogwarts, there was no doubt in his mind. His father's mission for him was clear: help Draco, kill Dumbledore. With the allegedly great wizard out of the way, winning the war would be easy just like taking candy from a baby.

However, all that seemed very trivial to Harry today. There was only one thing on his mind today, and it was the fact that Ella had woken up alone with nothing but a cold spot next to her in bed where Harry should have lay.

Harry was fully aware of the Order meeting going on just below his feet to which his upcoming year was the focus, but he found little reason to concern himself with it. He knew that he should muster up some reason to care, because the sooner he got to Hogwarts, the sooner he got to see Ella. He knew that it was unlikely that Dumbledore or James and Lily Potter would allow him to spend time with her, but at the very least, he would be able to look at her from across the Great Hall.

Harry would have liked to spend the majority of his time looking at Ella. Not kissing her, not talking to her, not even sleeping with her but just looking at her. Her face held thousands of tiny, hopeful prayers. Her blue eyes were deep pools of burning love. She carried herself with grace and beauty. He had spent hours tangling his fingers through her long, mahogany hair. Unlike Bellatrix and Rodolphus, Ella's face was a clearly cut image in his head. Every little laugh and longing sigh replayed through his head like a broken record. Every moment spent with her flashed before his eyes like tiny rays of an endless love.

Harry contemplated his love for Ella as he so often did. His father told him that love was a weakness and needed to be squashed out at the first sign. However, Harry liked love. He enjoyed quiet moments with Ella and the desire to protect her as well as the need to make her happy. If Harry was being honest, he knew his father was right. Loving Ella gave him a weakness. He would do anything to protect her. He would protect her just as Bellatrix would protect Harry. Bellatrix loved Harry as much as he loved Ella, and his father saw no reason to object to that even though it was a weakness... a weakness in one of his most loyal Death Eaters. However, Harry knew he was set to a higher standard and therefore was expected not to love anyone.

Despite what his father said, Harry knew that Voldemort him, as Bellatrix would protect him. Harry was torn--if love was such a weakness, than why would his father protect him? Harry had always grown up hearing how love could destroy a person and needed to be distinguished before it began. But, if Voldemort did not love Harry, than why did he bother protecting him from Dumbledore or training him to be the next Dark Lord?

The hours of Ella's birthday passed slowly with Harry losing himself in the grief of not being with her.

Sirius strolled into Harry's room, quietly stating, "The minister has agreed to you going to Hogwarts. You leave September first with the Potters." He walked out, leaving the door open and no one there to guard it.

Harry nodded before sinking back into the chair in the corner, staring out the window into a world where he knew Ella was spending her day.


	10. Headaches

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overload's "A Shattered Prophecy"**

**

* * *

**

"Are you certain, Severus?"

"Yes, my Lord. Dumbledore was positive. Harry will be at Hogwarts this year," Snape replied. His words echoed through the Dark Lord's chamber until ominously fading.

Lord Voldemort looked into Snape's sure eyes before saying, "Thank you, Severus. You may go."

Snape kissed the hem of his master's cloak before walking out of the chamber, leaving Draco Malfoy kneeling alone in front of the Dark Lord.

Happiness erupted through Lord Voldemort. With Harry assisting Draco Malfoy, this would be Dumbledore's final year. Dumbledore, who tried to squash the Dark Lord's efforts since the beginning, would fall. A warm flow of sheer bliss coursed through Voldemort's veins. It would be simple for Harry, his Harry, to fix the Vanishing Cabinet while Draco would have spent months trying to mend the thing. His son would see to it that Dumbledore's murder was quick and easy.

Voldemort was not sure that he had ever felt such a euphoria before.

"Malfoy..." Voldemort began, looking down on the kneeling child. "Aren't you pleased? Harry will be joining you this year."

Draco straightened his bowing back as soon as his master began speaking. He said loudly, "Nothing could make me happier, My Lord."

Voldemort answered, "Your father will have told you that you are to get Harry to assist you in the assignment I gave you."

"Yes, my Lord. There could no greater pleasure than to get Harry's assistance."

"No greater pleasure indeed."

Harry's head was on fire. Surely he was going to die from the pain of it.

"You have done well Draco."

Harry heard screaming but, he did not realize it was his own voice.

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"_Harry_!"

Harry was constricted in the sheets, which were covered with sweat and vomit. He was not aware of the screams escaping him until James was untangling him from the bed and began rubbing his back, whispering to him that it was alright, that it was simply a dream.

But it was not alright. His scar was burning, someone was taking a knife to it, someone had him under the Cruciatus Curse, someone was applying a white hot poker to his forehead, someone was killing him.

Harry retched all over himself and the bed, screaming all the while.

"Do something!" He heard someone, a woman, Lily, yelling.

"I don't know what's wrong with him! He's not hurt anywhere!" Another woman, someone Harry did not know.

Lily was sitting beside him, as James was, and had taken Harry's hands but, he needed them. He ripped them out of grasp before clutching his forehead, intending to rip his scar out if that was what it took to make the pain subside.

He was violently ill once again, this time leaning over the bed. He nearly could not make out the splash of liquid hitting the wooden floor over the sound of his own voice, shouting.

"Mr. Potter! What's going on?" he heard a boy shout.

"Madam Pomfrey," Lily was shouting again. "Do _something_!"

"I-I don't see anything wrong!"

"He's got the scar on his forehead," Sirius said softly.

"I need to see that scar, it might be cursed."

"Harry, baby, we need you to take your hands away from your scar. Can you do that, Harry?"

Harry screamed all the louder, although he heard Lily. The pain in his scar grew worse. He could not take his hands away.

"No, no, please, I don't want to," Harry blubbered, and stopped screaming.

"Harry, please, let Madam Pomfrey look at your scar."

"No no no no, please, no. It's cursed. It's a cursed scar."

Madam Pomfrey stepped back. "Then there is nothing I can do. We'll just have to wait it out."

Pain quickly turned to anger. Harry did not want their help. Harry did not ask for the Mudblood's help. His scar was still burning, deeply, as if someone had set a match to his head, but he did not need the Mudblood's help. He had been in worse pain. He shoved himself off his bed, noting for the first time the number of faces looking at him. Nearly all known Order members, plus the brats he had met earlier in the week.

His throat burned from his cries. His hair was matted to his head due to sweat. His clothes were wet with sick.

"You may leave," he said to his onlookers as he crossed the room and looked out the window. Somewhere out there, his father was happy. Somewhere out there, Draco was being rewarded. But Harry was not out there.

Order members looked taken back at the command until Dumbledore nodded and crowded them out of Harry's room.

A final whimper escaped him as he heard the door click.

The pain escaped as quickly as it found him. It was over, the only evidence being a slight prickling deep inside his scar.

* * *

Sirius sighed.

How many more Order meetings were needed in relation to Harry? He thought the plan was simple: James would be with him all the time, Aurors and Order members would be standing guard around Hogwarts. Students were not to know of his past and Harry was not to have a wand outside of classes. He could have minimal contact with Death Eaters' children, in a room closely monitored by Aurors and Dumbledore. The plan for Harry's upcoming year was easy.

Yet, Dumbledore had called a final meeting, to go over everything, as the children were leaving the following day.

"Lily, James, Ollivander has made this wand for Harry, specifically. I will have his original wand in my office. Later in the year, perhaps, if he's had good behavior, than we'll let him try out his old wand again," Dumbledore said, setting Harry's new wand on the table beside his old.

James nodded and looked away from the wands. Sirius knew James did not like to think what the holly wand had done-what Harry had done-from killing numerous Death Eaters to possibly helping torture the Longbottoms.

It pained Sirius to think of nine-year-old Harry witnessing such a hideous act. It made Sirius feel sick while thinking of it, how the Longbottoms must have screamed, must have begged for the pain to stop. He wondered if Harry had been afraid...although, if the raid were any indication, Harry had no fear about using the Cruciatus Curse-in fact, he enjoyed it, laughed at the pain of others. The haunting cackle that had escaped Harry when the Auror was writhing in pain in front of him had been the center of Sirius's most recent nightmares.

But, Sirius knew there was another side of Harry. He had seen the loving look Harry had given the portraits of Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Harry looked physically pained to be away from them-his family. Despite the truth, despite Sirius wanting nothing more than for Harry to be home with James and Lily, despite the fact that Voldemort had had Harry stolen from the Potters-Sirius knew that Harry honestly thought of Sirius's deranged cousin and her husband as his family. To Harry, Bellatrix was his aunt and his mother. Voldemort was his father. Rodolphus was his uncle. Draco was his best friend. Ella was his girlfriend. Harry had his own family, and the Potters were not a part of it.

Suddenly, there was screaming coming from upstairs. Terrorized, gut-wrenching, _screaming_. Harry's terror filled the house, Lily was already running towards the stairs, James closely following her, while McGonagall sent a patronus to Madame Pomfrey. Dumbledore looked worried, as did Remus. All the Order rushed after James and Lily, but none quite as fast as Sirius.

When Sirius reached Harry's room, he found James and Lily to be sitting in Harry's bed, full of sick and soaked with sweat. Harry was screaming in his sleep, his sheets were constricting his arms and torso as he thrashed around his bed. The children were standing in the doorway, looking fearful. Lily and James were doing everything they could to wake Harry, but nothing was working. Sirius pushed past the kids and ran over to the bed.

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"_Harry_!"

Finally, his eyes snapped open, while he was screaming all the louder. He stopped whipping around his bed long enough for James to untwist him. James whispered reassuring words in his ear while Lily rubbed his back.

Harry screamed once again before vomiting all of himself.

Madam Pomfrey hurried into the room before being yelled at by Lily.

"Do something!"

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a quick check for the cause of his pain, but it was evident she found nothing.

"I don't know what's wrong with him! He's not hurt anywhere!"

Lily took Harry's hands and began rubbing soothing circles into his palm, but he quickly ripped them away from her grasp. He clutched his forehead, his scar. Sirius wondered if he was the only one noticing how it was Harry's scar, not his head, that he cradled in his hands.

Harry leaned over his bed, vomiting once again.

"Mr. Potter! What's going on?" Neville shouted. He looked as if he wanted to flee, wanted to get as far away from the screaming as possible.

He was ignored as Lily shouted furiously, "Madam Pomfrey, do _something_!"

Madam Pomfrey looked like she was going to argue before seeing the rage evident on Lily's face. Sirius knew better than to get between Lily and her children, and if Harry or Emma were hurting, Lily wanted it dealt with. Sirius could only imagine how she must have felt seeing Harry writhing in pain before her while Madam Pomfrey told them he was not hurt.

"I-I don't see anything wrong!"

"He's got the scar on his forehead," Sirius said quietly. How had the others forgotten the lightening bolt shaped scar, so bright that it looked as if he had gotten yesterday?

"I need to see that scar, it might be cursed."

"Harry, baby, we need you to take your hands away from your scar. Can you do that, Harry?" Lily asked, gently trying to pry his hands away.

Harry screamed one last time before crying, "No, no, please, I don't want to."

"Harry, please, let Madam Pomfrey look at your scar."

"No no no no, please, no. It's cursed. It's a cursed scar."

Madam Pomfrey stepped back. "Then there is nothing I can do. We'll just have to wait it out."

Suddenly, Harry looked furious. He jumped up away from the bed, giving his parents and the matron a cold look before walking over his window, his back to the crowd that had gathered in his doorway.

"You may leave."

Several Order members looked angry at the command given. Moody looked as if he was ready to send a hex to Harry's back. Neville, however, quickly turned away, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Dumbledore stared at Harry for a minute before ushering everyone out of room. Lily stole one last look at Harry before following Dumbledore. James vanished the sick from Harry's bed, looked at his son and walked out. Sirius turned and gently closed the door behind him.

* * *

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked as soon as all the teenagers congregated in he and Neville's room.

Nevile felt sick. Harry's mere presence reminded him of the life he could have had if Voldemort had chosen Neville instead of Harry; Neville could have been the one writhing in pain while Harry stood at the door, terrified.

The selfish part of Neville, the part of him that occasionally grew tired of the fight against Voldemort, was happy that it was Harry whom the Dark Lord had chosen. A small part of Neville was happy to have it be Harry whose dreams continued to torture him long after he awoke. Neville could hardly stand to think about the people being killed in the war, let alone being the one to go out and kill them. Yes, part of Neville was overtly happy at the fact that it was Harry who had to sacrifice what his life would have been.

Of course, the braver, nobler, selfless part of Neville, which greatly outweighed the selfish side of him, wanted to help Harry, wanted to befriend him, even. The injustice of Harry's upbringing seemed to smother Neville. It was all he could think about. In Neville's eyes, Harry was not a murderer. He was a boy who wanted to make the father figure in his life proud of him. He was a boy who was responding to how he was raised. Neville could not be angry at Harry for the lives he took, Neville could hardly even feel sorry for him. Harry was happy with Voldemort, was content with his murderous lifestyle.

Neville could not help but be curious. What was it like to have _Bellatrix_, who, in Neville's opinion, did not even possess a soul, let alone harbor maternal instincts, be your mother? Of course, if Bellatrix's devotion to Voldemort was any indication to how she loved people, than Neville could only guess how devoted she was to someone she considered her son. Did she kiss Harry's robes, as the Death Eaters kissed Voldemort's? Sirius had divulged to Neville how Harry had escaped from him room and was staring at Bellatrix's and Rodolphus's portraits. It had never occurred to Neville before then, but Harry _loved_ the Death Eaters.

Neville knew he could never appreciate just how fortune he was that it was Harry Voldemort chose, instead of him.

"Dunno. It could've been anything, I suppose," Neville answered.


	11. Business and Pleasure

**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and this story was inspired by Project Dark Overload's "A Shattered Prophecy"  
**

* * *

Lily cracked Harry's door open to see if he was awake. Smiling, she saw bits of unruly black hair peaking out from under the blankets. After walking into his room, she gently clicked the door behind her before walking to Harry's bed. She pulled the blankets off his head and began softly shaking Harry awake.

"Harry...baby... you have to wake up. We're leaving for Hogwarts today. Harry? Wake up, dear."

"Ella Yaxley," Harry mumbled, eyes still closed. "Go away, love. It's too early."

Lily chuckled before shaking Harry a bit more. "Harry Potter, wake up," she said through her giggles.

Harry's eyes shot open at being called a Potter. He sat up and squinted at Lily for a moment before flopping back down, pulling the blankets over his head and saying sleepily, "Bloody hell, you're not Ella."

Lily pulled at blankets off the bed. "No, I'm not. Now get up. If you're lucky, Dumbledore will let you talk to her today."

Harry smiled widely at the prospect of seeing the one he loved. He rolled out of bed, grabbed a towel, and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Lily smiled at Harry's retreating form, dragging his feet lazily, before she summoned the trunk she had bought when they knew Harry was going to Hogwarts. Lily and Molly had gone to Diagon Alley, which lay in ruin due to Harry's raid, for his school supplies. There was so much destruction. Gambol & Japes had burnt to the ground, as well as the junk shop. Luckily, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ollivander's, Madam Malkin's, and Flourish & Blotts survived. Lily began putting together Harry's trunk for school.

How many times had she imagined that moment? How many days had she walked gently around Harry's nursery, imagining where his bed would have gone, whether or not he would have had a Gryffindor flag hanging in his room, like James and Sirius had done to their bedrooms in their adolescences? How she would have knelt beside him as they packed his trunk, with James standing in the doorway, telling Harry every way to get into mischief. Emma would have been running around the house, crying about how it was not _she_ who was headed off to Hogwarts. Lily felt tears well up in her eyes and she made no effort to stop them for falling.

She was done crying when Harry walked in dressed in a new pair of jeans and the red shirt he had worn when he came to Grimmauld Place.

Lily smiled as she folded his robes and put them off to the side to be packed. "I just love that shirt," Lily said.

Harry mumbled something before grabbing his new robes, getting them in order.

"Such an interesting red," said Lily, attempting to keep up the conversation no matter how one-sided it may be.

Harry placed his robes into the trunk before saying, "It was white when I bought it. I've had it for a couple of years."

Lily fumbled for a moment as she tried to understand what Harry was saying.

Blood. It used to be white until it got so much blood on it that it became red. Lily idly wondered how much of it was Harry's.

"Did it?" She asked, her voiced hitching slightly.

"Yeah, sometimes my duels are messy. Believe it or not, some people just do _not_ want to die," Harry chuckled. "I figured it made sense to just get one set of clothes stained. Or rather, Aunt Bellatrix figured." Harry smiled at Lily.

"And you listen...to Bellatrix?"

"Of course I do. I have manners," Harry said jokingly.

Lily sighed before saying, "Do you want to take a break from packing and go downstairs for breakfast?"

"Sure."

So, the two set off for the stairs. On the way down Harry asked, "You know Ella, right?"

Lily inhaled deeply. "Yes I do, she's one of my students."

"And...do you like like her?"

"She's an excellent student. And she's very good at controlling Mr. Malfoy's temper, so that's always a plus."

Harry laughed. "Is he really that horrible?"

Lily smiled, thinking of all the times Draco had disrupted her classroom.

"Yes, he _really_ is _that_ horrible." Harry smiled.

They walked into the kitchen to get the breakfast that Molly was cooking. The other teenagers, all looking groggy from having to get up early for the first time in months, were all sitting at the table, nibbling on toast.

They all stopped to look at Harry and Lily, even Molly who normally would not budge until the last dish had been washed. "Good morning," Lily said, kissing Emma's cheek and ruffling Neville's hair. "Did you get a good night's rest? You don't want to fall asleep at the feast, right Emma?" Lily laughed as she sat down.

The entire table burst into laughter. Harry figured that it was a private joke. He felt strangely left out.

Lily must have noticed. Between her laughter she choked out, "Oh Harry...in Emma's second year...she was so tired she...fell asleep at the feast!"

The table busted into more laughter. Harry could not see what was so funny. If he would have ever fallen asleep at the dinner table at home, there would certainly have not been laughter...

Once it died down, Hermine seemed to gather all her Gryffindor courage and said, "I think you'll really like Hogwarts, Harry. Everyone does."

Harry bit back a Mudblood comment before answering, "Perhaps."

Lily prodded the conversation along. "Excited to see your friends, Harry?" She asked.

He nodded before smiling and saying quietly, "Yeah. I really am."

Emma smiled at Harry before asking, "Who are your friends? Maybe we know some of them."

Harry faltered. How many known Death Eaters were there? He did not want to risk the lives of his future follower's parents.

"Um...Draco Malfoy and Ella Yaxley," he said, positive that their fathers were well-known.

Emma dropped her fork. Harry heard Ron inhale sharply. Ginny choked on her drink, coughing until her face matched her red hair. Fred and George took turns throwing murderous glances Harry's way.

Lily and Molly cleared their throats, looking pointedly at the children to stop. Emma instantly picked up her fork and began shoveling eggs into her mouth. Ginny's coughs died down before stopping completely.

"Um...you guys have problems with my friends?" Harry asked, smiling. He was proud that just saying his confidants' names would elicit that kind of reaction.

"You could say we've never really gotten along," Emma answered.

"Oh...well, they're hard to get to know, I guess."

There was a sight lull in the conversation before Harry said, "You're Hermione Granger right?

Hermione looked nervous. "Yeah, I am."

"You're the one that punched Draco third year?" Harry said, laughing.

Hermione, Ron and Neville joined him. "Yeah, I am. Hit him pretty hard too," she said. "Why? Did he say something?"

"Yeah, when he came home. His account of it, which I'm sure isn't the truth, was you attacked him out of nowhere, and he should have told the school's governors, for-what was it?-'a mindless, violent attack on an innocent student.' Yes, that was it," Harry laughed.

"Draco Malfoy is not an 'innocent student,' I can assure you," Hermione said, smiling.

"I don't doubt you," Harry said.

At this, James and Sirius burst through the door, each smiling widely and chattered animatedly.

"Ready for Hogwarts, Harry?" James asked, ruffling his hair like Harry's family back home. He swiped James's hand away just as the man leaned in to kiss Lily good morning. James sat down next to Lily and began talking to his wife and daughter.

Harry looked at the family. He did not belong there. He would never belong there, sitting at the table with a mother, a father, and a sister, ready to set off for Hogwarts.

He pushed his chair out and walked over to the cupboards. He began tearing through them, taking everything out, only looking for one thing.

The table had gone quiet. Harry could feel every gaze fixed on him. He dropped some plates before ripping open another cabinet.

Finally. He reached in, took out the tall glass, before he grabbed the Firewhiskey sitting next to him, and began to pour it into the glass.

"What do you think you're doing?" James asked, his voice sharp.

"I think I'm pouring myself a drink. What do _you_ think I'm doing?" Harry answered before downing the glass. He reached for the Firewhiskey for a refill, but he found it was gone.

James had it in his hand, walking suspiciously towards the sink.

"You're not getting drunk.That may have been alright at your old house, but here, we don't let the kids drink."

James spun the cap off the Firewhiskey and was about to pour it down the drain before Harry said, "James. Do you want me at Hogwarts by this time tomorrow or not?"

James paused for a moment. "Yes, I do want that."

"Then I'll need copious amounts of alcohol to let you get me there."

Emma laughed. James glared at her, but she did not stop.

"If you pour it down the drain, you're just making this harder for yourself. Don't think I'll go without kicking and screaming, because it won't happen. Unless I've drunk a bit," Harry said, smiling crookedly.

James stood there for a long moment. Finally, he sighed before handing the bottle back to Harry, who brought it to his lips without hesitation. Fred and George watched him enviously; they had been trying to get into the Firewhiskey all summer.

He could feel the effects immediately-his body warm, his mind losing the harsh edge that accompanied every thought, the perpetual tension in his back easing slightly. He became visibly more relaxed, his furrowed brow smoothing out and his jaw becoming unclenched.

James shook his head at Harry before sitting down next to his wife, taking her hand in his.

Eleven o' clock came and went with everyone, save James and Harry, going to the train station either to give Neville protection or to see the children off.

Harry, who had expected James to see off Lily and Emma while someone else stayed at Grimmauld Place with him, felt a prick of irritation when all James did was ruffle Emma's long black hair, kissed Lily's cheek and told them to "have a safe trip."

After they left, James turned to Harry, who was still drinking, and said, "What do you want to do for the next few hours? We don't have to leave until tonight, really, unless you want to get there eariler."

Harry rolled his eyes and began up the stairs, mumbling as he went, "I want to get out of here."

James nodded, his eyes on Harry's retreating form. As Harry turned the corner and began down the hallway, James sighed and said, "We'll just leave early then," as Harry slammed the bedroom door.

The hours ticked along slowly. James had sent a patronus to Dumbledore to inform him that he and Harry would be arriving early. Harry drifted into the kitchen around noon, slapping together a sandwich and downing a bottle of Firewhiskey. He commented that he would like to talk to Ella before the day was over. James sent Dumbledore another patronus.

At four o' clock, James and Harry grabbed their trunks and apparated to Hogsmeade. Kingsley and McGonagall met them at the The Three Broomsticks and escorted them to the gates.

Harry step unto the grounds and saw the magnificent castle.

* * *

The train roared beneath Ella's feet. The other Slytherins had left her and Draco alone in a compartment.

"Do you know where the other cabinet is? I know you said the Room of Requirement but-"

"I know where it is."

Ella sighed. Draco was becoming more and more irritable by the day. Ella suspected that if Harry did not brighten his mood, she would end up punching Draco by the end of the year, much like Hermione Granger had done in their third year.

Just thinking of Harry being with her for the year made Ella smile unwittingly. During the usual long months of separation, the couple shared in heartache, counted down the vast amount of time before them.

However, this year would be different. She could finally show him everything, from the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack under the Whomping Willow, on which the Weasley twins thought they held a monopoly, to the hundreds, if not thousands, of books just sitting on the stacks as if begging to be read. The Black Lake at Christmas. Slytherin crushing Gryffindor at Quidditch.

As she was thinking about the upcoming year, the door opened. In the doorway, stood Professor Potter. Ella had liked her as much as she could. It had always been strange to see Lily's face and yet see Harry's eyes reflected back to Ella. Lily was the definition of everything Ella was born to hate, and yet she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Professor," Ella said. "Is anything you need?"

Lily raked her eyes over Ella as if examining her. It was then Ella realized that Lily knew about her and Harry.

"Is Harry on the train?" Ella asked breathlessly, feeling as though nothing on Earth was more important.

"Come with me, Mrs. Yaxley," Lily said. Ella gulped-it had always been Ella. Lily called Draco, Mr. Malfoy, as if she was too disgusted to even say his name, but it had never been Mrs. Yaxley. Despite Ella's family's role in the war, Lily had always been reasonably polite to Ella.

Ella glanced at Draco, muttered a goodbye and left the compartment.

When she and Lily were alone in a staff compartment, Lily turned to her and said, "Harry's wanted to see you before the feast. Take my arm, we'll apparate to Hogsmeade." Ella's heart soared as she grabbed Lily's arm.

Half an hour later, Ella and Lily were walking up the staircase to Dumbledore's office. Lily had already explained the outlines of Ella and Harry's meetings-there would be Order members and Aurors present, the conversation would be stopped if they talked about Harry escaping or other subjects the adults deemed as inappropriate. "And kissing should be kept to a minimum," Lily added, glaring at Ella. Ella did not know if that was Lily's rule, or Dumbledore's.

Finally, Ella stood inside Dumbledore's office. Harry was standing across the room. He looked bad. There were circles under his eyes from either getting too much or too little sleep. His hair, which he normally tried to smooth down, was so disheveled that it looked as though he had not put a comb through it in a month. His fingers were flexed into a fist.

When he saw her, he smiled widely and walked across the room to engulf her in a hug. They stayed like that for a long time, not even talking, just soaking up each other's presence. She was inches shorter than him, and his chin rested on the top of her head. His eyes were closed, and her head was buried in his chest.

After several minutes, or hours, or days, or weeks Harry opened his eyes to say, "I missed you."

She looked up and pecked him in response. "I love you," she said. "How have you-are you okay? We've been worried sick, Bellatrix and I."

Harry chuckled. "I'm alright. I've mostly just been holed up in a bedroom in the Order's headquarters. All I did was sleep and eat," he said.

Ella touched the deep purples under Harry's eyes. "I was wondering if this was because of too much or too little."

"Too much," Harry said with a crooked smile. Ella kissed the corner his mouth.

Lily cleared her throat and stared murderously at Ella. Harry rolled his eyes.

"How have you been? And Bellatrix? What about my father?" Harry asked.

"Oh, you know I can't answer for Bellatrix; although, she seems worried. I have no idea how your father is! I've only spoken to the man a couple of times in my entire life," Ella said, wording her answer carefully so that the Order would not get too much information.

"Oh, that's not fair. You lived with us for a month last year, surely you spoke to him then," Harry said. Ella's eyes darted to Dumbledore, and Harry was reminded of how carefully he must choose his words.

"Twice," Ella said. "I believe he asked me if I was enjoying my stay, and I said yes. Another time he was looking for you, and I said you were in your room. Those were the only times I talked to him in the entire month I lived with you."

"You exaggerate," Harry said. He broke his gaze at Ella to look over at the Order members watching them. "She exaggerates. All the time. Don't mind her."

Ella playfully hit Harry's chest. "Harry, I _do not_ exaggerate." Ella turned to the room at large. "I don't. Harry's delusional."

Lily and James smiled. Sirius and Remus chuckled.

Ella saw this and continued, "No, seriously, he is. The first time we met, he was _convinced_ I had blond hair. I saw him again in the next couple of days, and he asked me how I got my hair so dark so fast."

Harry blushed. "It had been a busy week! Sorry, I didn't pay attention to every little detail."

Ella laughed. "I give up."


End file.
